THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SEEING  THROUGH 


BY 

RUTH  G.  WINANT 

Field  Secretary  of  the  Bible  Teachers' 
Training  School 


BOSTON 

RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

THE  GORHAM    PRESS 


Copyright,   1920,  by  Ruth  G.  Wlnant 


All  Rights  Reserved 


MADE  IN  THE  UMTED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


THE  GORHAM  PRESS,  BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


Light  up,  my  Father,  for  those  who  read  the 
pages  of  this  little  book,  the  commonplace  of  life 
with  uncommon  glory.  Grant  that  with  the  rising 
of  each  new  sun  they  may  rise  in  newness  of  life 
in  Christ  Jesus ;  in  the  full  blaze  of  noon  may  they 
find  Thee  a  shield  and  a  shade,  and  when  night  falls 
and  weariness  takes  possession  of  body,  mind  and 
spirit,  may  Thy  glory  shine  through  the  darkness 
and  in  the  shadows  of  the  eventide  may  they  discern 
Thy  goings. 


904075 


FOREWORD 

God  has  given  two  revelations  of  himself.  The 
older  one  is  that  of  his  handiwork  in  nature.  This 
was  the  revelation  that  the  Psalmist  so  often  receiv 
ed  and  interpreted  to  his  fellowmen.  The  other 
revelation  is  that  through  his  Word.  In  many  re 
spects  this  is  clearer  and,  so  far  as  redemption  is 
concerned,  much  richer  than  the  revelation  through 
nature.  Most  people,  provided  they  attend  at  all  to 
God's  revelation  of  himself,  pay  more  attention  to 
the  second  revelation,  than  they  do  to  the  first.  To 
Miss  Winant  God  has  given  eyes  to  see  much  of  the 
truth  in  both  revelations,  and  her  effort  in  this 
little  volume  is  to  tell  to  others  what  has  been 
made  so  clear  to  her.  I  am  sure  that  many  will  be 
helped  through  this  book  to  see  what  has  been  to 
them  before  invisible  or,  at  the  best,  somewhat 
obscure. 

A.  F.  SCHAUFFLER. 


AUTHOR'S  MESSAGE 

Sitting  at  a  friend's  desk  a  number  of  years  ago 
I  saw  there  the  following  quotation :  "There  ain't 
no  commonplace." 

To  this  delightfully  ungrammatical  sentence  my 
heart  made  instant  response,  and  through  the  years 
I  have  tried  to  help  men  and  women  to  see  God's 
footsteps  on  the  common  ways  of  life. 

That  I  might  reach  more  people,  and  help  them 
to  see  through  to  God  is  the  only  reason  for  the 
publication  of  this  little  book. 

RUTH  G.  WINANT. 


CONTENT^ 

PAGE 

Seeing  Through    13 

Faith    14 

Jonquils    15 

Sources 16 

Rain   17 

Silver  Birch 18 

Sunrise  and  Sunset   19 

Sermons    2O 

Victory  and  Song   22 

To  My  "Adopted"  Mother   23 

Before    24 

The  Coat  of  Arms 25 

The  Sky-Line    26 

Autumn   Leaves    27 

April  Showers 28 

Song  29 

The  Aftermath  of  Snow  30 

Clouds    31 

The  Burden  Bearer  32 

In  Union  Strength   33 

"Whatsoever  Things  Ye  Need" 34 

Pussy's  Song 36 

A  Juniper  Tree   37 

"The  Sea  is  His" 38 

Lighted  Lamps   39 

"There"    40 

El  Roi 41 

Faith    42 

9 


Contents 


PAGE 

The  Incline  Pathway   43 

Hebrews  2:12   44 

"Now,  Therefore   Sing  a   Song" 46 

"Shine    Inside"    47 

On  a  City  Roof 48 

"As  a  Little  Child"  49 

November    50 

The  Spring-Time  Woods    51 

God's  Painter  From  the  North 52 

Birds  in  November 53 

"Not  One  Sparrow"    54 

Deut.  8 :2-5   55 

Suggestion    56 

Prayer  at  a  Cross-Road   57 

Deut.   i  :30-33    58 

Prayer  in   Distress 59 

Compensation    60 

Isa.  42 13    6 1 

Home   62 

Rev.   9:15    63 

Heb.  12:11   64 

"God's  Minute"   65 

Psalm  23    65 

Rev.  3 :4 67 

Safe— With    Him    68 

There's  A  Blessing  as  You  Go  Through ....  69 

Prayer  after  Defeat   70 

"Things  God  Prepares" 71 

Pointing  Godward    72 

Moffat-  Translation  of  2  Cor.  5:1   74 

10 


Contents 


PAGE 

Children's  Spring  Song   75 

Joy    77 

My  Memory  Box 78 

The  Senses 79 

A  Friend   81 

Post-Operative    82 

A  Hospital  Doxology 83 

My  Doctor 85 

In   a   Hospital    86 

West  Windows 88 

Friends 90 

To  Keep  from  Growing  Old 93 

A  Garden  Interrogator   94 

God  and  Gardens 95 

Ode  to  Writing  Materials 96 

Howard  Arnold  Walter 97 

Accidentals    99 

To  L.  T.  A 100 

On  a  Calendar  Pad IOI 

When  Jesus  Was  Dead 103 

"The  Glorious  Adventure" 104 

A  Psalm  of  Thanks   105 

H.  A.  W 106 

Trust    107 

God's  Paint  Box    108 

Not  Alone 109 

Declaration  and  Request ill 

Reflection    112 

"Win  Christ"   113 

"He  Shall  Come  Down  Like  Rain" 114 

II 


Contents 


PAGE 

Love  in  the  Morning no 

The  Hampton  Quartette 117 

"There  is  no  Room"  118 

"A  Land  Not  Far  Off" 119 

The  Storm  Song 120 

Dawn  121 

Trees    122 

Compassed  About 125 

"With  Him  in  Glory" 126 

A  Vase  of  Pink  Roses 127 

He  Changes  Not 128 

"Thy  Will  Be  Done" 129 

Burning  Leaves 130 

"Afterglow-Land"    131 

God's  Carpets  132 

Summer's  Growing  Old   133 

Chiming  Bells 134 

Isa.  9:6 135 

Christmas  Music 137 

The  Answer   138 


12 


SEEING  THROUGH 


SEEING  THROUGH 

God  in  leaf  and  bud  and  blossom, 
God  in  greening  grass  and  tree, 

God  in  liberated  waters 
Dancing  freely  to  the  sea. 

God  in  song  of  robin  red-breast, 

God  in  butterflies  set  free, 
Trying  out  their  wings  and  glorying 

In  their  new-found  liberty. 

God  in  frisking  lambs  a'racing 
On  the  meadows'  softest  green ; 

God — I  bow  my  head  and  worship — 
God  in  every  spring  thing  seen. 

Reprinted  from  the  Christian  Advocate  Febru 
ary,  1918. 


Seeing   Through 


FAITH 

Winter  time  spells  resurrection 

If  you  only  see  it  so; 
Underneath  the  brown  earth  crusted 

White  and  purple  vi'lets  grow. 

Pregnant  spring  lies  under  blankets 
Of  the  winter's  whitest  snow; 

Crocuses  and  spring-time  tulips 
Where  the  winter  sunbeams  glow. 

Winter  time  spells  resurrection, 

Hope  gleams  in  the  hoar-frost  white ; 

Branches  bare  speak  leafy  promise, 
Spring's  at  dawn  in  winter's  night. 


Seeing   Through 


JONQUILS 

The  sky  is  dull  and  leaden, 

Not  a  sunbeam  can  I  see, 

Just  one  mass  of  snow-filled  grayness 

Telling  of  a  storm  to  be. 

But  inside  my  window  casement 
I  have  sunbeams  hidden  by, 
In  the  happy,  yellow  jonquils, 
With  their  dainty  heads  held  high. 

I  have  embryonic  sunbeams 
In  each  lovely  flower  I  see, 
So  I  defy  the  storm  outside 
Where  clouds  and  grayness  be. 

Jack  Frost  has  lost  his  terrors, 

And  wintry  clouds  of  gray, 

The  jonquils  brought  me  Spring  and  sun 

To  last  the  live-long  day. 


Seeing  Through 


SOURCES 

As  some  small  brook  whose  home  is  in  the  mountains 
Suddenly  fills  and  dancing  overflows, 
Some  Spring  day  fed  from  far-off  flowing  fountains 
Where  Spring-time  sun  is  melting  winter  snows — 

So  may  my  springs  be  hid  in  One  who  filleth 
Full  to  the  brim  my  daily  life  below, 
Full  of  His  love  and  grace  and  power,  and  willeth 
More  of  Himself  the  world  through  me  to  show. 

As  some  clear  brook  may  I  reflect  the  glory 
Of  heaven  above  and  of  the  earth  below, 
Sunlight  and  moonbeams, — tell  again  the  story, — 
Praise  the  Creator  as  I  onward  go. 

May  my  reflection  be  so  true,  so  holy, 
That  seeing  me  men  then  may  look  away 
Clear  to  the  Source,  where  from  the  ages  hoary 
God  the  Creator  loves  and  lives  alway. 


16 


Seeing  Through 


RAIN 

Over  the  city  the  storm-clouds  sailed, 

And  soon  from  the  darkened  sky 
P'aster  and  faster  the  rain-drops  fell 

And  hurried  my  window  by. 
And  the  city's  dust  was  seen  no  more, 

And  the  sparrows  chirped  their  lay, 
And  the  ivy  vine  that  the  church  spires  twine 

Looked  fresh  as  the  month  of  May. 

Over  the  country  the  storm-cloud  sailed, 

And  the  gentle  rain  drops  fell, 
And  the  drooping  flowers  raised  their  heads 

To  answer  the  magic  spell. 
And  the  parched  earth  grew  green  again, 

And  birds  in  the  tree-tops  sang, 
And  the  branches  bowed  at  the  chirping  loud, 

And  woods  with  swift  answer  rang. 


Seeing  Through 


SILVER  BIRCH 

Shimmering,  glimmering,  prancing,  dancing, 
Silver  shades  the  green  enhancing; 
Hurrying,  scurrying,  racing,  chasing, 

These  are  the  leaves  of  the  Silver  Birch. 

Murmuring,  whisp'ring,  crooning,  singing, 
Rustling  while  from  your  pinched  stem  swinging, 
Heavenly  music  to  me  you're  bringing 
Gentle  leaves  of  the  Silver  Birch. 


18 


Seeing  Through 


SUNRISE  AND  SUNSET 

Far  in  the  East  in  the  early  morn 

I  saw  the  sun  arise 
And  far  in  the  distance  its  rosy  gleams 

Lightened  the  dull  gray  skies 
And  the  thought  of  God  who  made  the  world 

The  sky  and  sea  and  air 
Came  into  my  heart  as  I  thought  of  Him 

Who  had  made  the  same  so  fair. 

Far  in  the  West  in  the  early  eve 

I  saw  the  sun  so  down 
And  o'er  the  landscape  its  glowing  rays 

Lightened  the  dull  grey-brown. 
And  the  peace  of  God  who  saw  the  toil 

Of  day  then  near  its  close 
Came  into  my  heart  as  I  thought  of  Him 

Who  brought  for  toil,  repose. 

Published  by  Galen  Church  Pub.  Co.     Used  by 
permission. 


Seeing  Through 


SERMONS 

I've  been  listening  to  a  sermon, 
But  there's  been  no  preacher  by; 

No  frock-coated  soul  forth-holding 
Telling  me  the  what  and  why. 

I've  been  listening  to  a  sermon, 
But  no  pulpit  high  is  seen, 

No  glass  windows  where  the  sunlight 
Filters  through,  rose,  gold  and  green. 

I've  been  listening  to  a  sermon 
But  no  cushioned  pew  is  mine, 

No  soft  organ  notes  resounding 
Lift  my  thoughts  to  things  divine. 

I've  been  listening  to  a  sermon 
And  the  preacher  is  a  rose, 

Dyed  with  deepest  crimson  splendor 
Breathing  forth  the  truths  it  knows. 

Dumb  in  spoken  words, — its  language 
Speaketh  plain  to  me  to-day, 

In  the  quiet  of  the  sick-room 
Eloquent  with  things  to  say : 


20 


Seeing  Through 


"God  your  every  need  supplieth, 
Knoweth  what  is  best  for  you, 

Ceaseth  not  with  "necessaries," 
Addeth  extras  for  you  too. 

"Things  of  which  you  have  not  dreamed, 
Far  exceeding  human  thought, 

Things  impossible  that  seemed, 

Things  no  human  love  had  wrought. 

"God  who  brought  me  into  being, 
Gave  my  leaves  their  wonder-hue, 

Sent  the  dew  and  rain  and  sunshine, 
Made,  then  helped  me  as  I  grew, 

"He  for  you  hath  also  meted 

Dew  and  rain  and  sunshine  bright, 

Longs  to  have  you  bear  His  image, 
In  the  world  of  so  much  night. 

"Do  as  I  do, — Take  His  sendings, — 
Dew  and  sunshine  and  the  rain, 

Turn  the  tear  drops  into  rainbows, 
Smile  through  hours  of  hardest  pain. 

"Go  you  forth — this  is  my  message — 

I  the  preacher,  you  the  pew, 
Go  you  forth  to  bear  His  image, 

Let  Him  reach  the  world  through  you !" 


21 


Seeing  Through 


VICTORY  AND  SONG 

Sing  for  the  days  now  past  and  gone 
When  God  the  Lord  was  near, 
When  He  was  Comrade  on  the  road, 
A  Comrade  tried  and  dear. 

Sing  for  the  days  that  now  are  here, 
To-day,  this  hour  and  now; 
He  who  has  helped  us  heretofore 
To-day  will  show  us  "how." 

Sing  for  the  days  that  yet  shall  be, 
Hid  in  the  mists  away; 
God  of  all  time  and  eternity, 
Knoweth  the  unknown  way. 

Sing  for  the  days  when  death  shall  rend 
The  veil  between  that  swings; 
Let  neither  life  nor  death  make  mute, 
He  who  is  victor  sings. 


22 


Seeing  Through 


TO  MY  "ADOPTED"  MOTHER 
October  26th,  1917 

I'd  like  to  write  some  verses 

To  bless  your  natal  day ; 

I'd  like  to  write  the  things  I  feel 

But  somehow  cannot  say. 

And  so  I  ask  my  pencil 

To  take  the  word  to  you, 

To  thank  you  for  the  thing  you  are, 

And  for  the  things  you  do. 

I've  heard  about  a  preacher 

Who,  on  Thanksgiving  Day 

Chose  for  his  text  two  little  words 

His  message  to  convey. 

And  I  his  text  would  borrow, 

Just  THINKS  and  THANKS,— that's  all,- 

For  every  time  I  think  of  you 

My  thinking  seems  to  fall 

Into  a  real  Thanksgiving 

That  you  were  born  at  all. 

East  Hampton  I  remember, 
And  Lakewood,  clothed  in  white; 
Belle  Haven,  Greenwich  and  Sound  Beach 
And  Ridegfield's  visit  bright. 


Seeing  Through 


The  more  I  think,  the  more  I  thank — 
My  mind  skims  o'er  the  years 
Since  I  was  first  "adopted" 
Years  both  of  joys  and  tears. 

And  on  October  twenty-sixth, 

I'd  bring  a  line  o'  cheer, 

And  say :  "God  bless  you,  friend  of  mine 

This  day  and  all  the  year." 

BEFORE 

Just  before  the  day  wakes 
Is  the  hour  that's  darkest; 

Just  before  the  heart  breaks 
Is  the  hour  Thou  markest. 

Just  before  the  heart  breaks — 
Help  me  to  believe  it! — 

Thou  Thyself  wilt  comfort  bring 
And  agony, — relieve  it. 


Seeing  Through 


THE  COAT  OF  ARMS 

God  has  trusted  him  with  sorrow, 
And  his  hair,  fast  turning  gray, 

Is  a  token  of  God's  favor 
That  shall  never  pass  away. 

God  has  trusted  him  with  sickness, 
And  his  weak  and  wasted  frame 

Is  a  badge  of  God's  near  presence, — 
He  to  strengthen  weak  ones  came. 

God  has  trusted  him  with  anguish, 
Furrows  deep  are  on  his  brow; 

Some, — yes  some  of  his  own  children 
Wander  from  his  God  afar. 

Man  thus  burdened,  hear  my  story; 

Rest  your  heart  from  all  alarms; 
Sorrow,   sickness,   anguish, — Calv'ry,- 

Are  the  Father's  "Coat  of  Arms." 


Seeing  Through 


THE  SKY-LINE 

Trees  denuded,  branches  bare, 
Wintry  feeling  in  the  air, 
Through  the  leafless  boughs  outspread 
Shows  the  bright  sun  overhead. 

Autumn  colors  passed  away, 
Leaves  no  longer  bright  and  gay; 
See  the  blue  sky  shining  through 
With  a  thought  of  hope  for  you. 

Life  denuded,  loved  ones  gone, 
Those  you  loved  to  gaze  upon ; — 
Lift  your  tear-stained  eyes  on  high, 
See  God's  hope-blue  stretch  of  sky. 

All  Life's  gladness  vanished  quite, 
Life  seems  all  one  long,  dark  night;— 
Look  above  and  far  away — 
Breaks  God's  perfect,  endless  day. 


26 


Seeing  Through 


AUTUMN  LEAVES 

Autumn  leaves,  what  do  you  say 

As  you  hurry  far  away ; 
Scattered  by  September's  wind, 

What  is  now  your  message,  pray? 

Spoke  the  red  leaves,  whisp'ring  low 
As  they  lay  there  bleeding: 

"Catch  the  sunset's  brightest  glow, 
This  the  world  is  needing; 

For  the  morrow  surely  comes 

Tho'  the  red  glow  dieth, 
Days  anew  and  morning  suns 

Come  and  darkness  flieth." 

Spake  the  leaves  of  shining  gold: 

"Autumn  days  are  over, 
But  the  summer'll  come  again 

Sweet  with  early  clover." 

Red  and  gold  leaves  in  duet 
Faith's  triumphant  chorus: 

"God  the  best  saves  to  the  last, 
Keeps  the  best  before  us." 


Seeing  Through 


APRIL  SHOWERS 

April  showers  fast  a-falling, 
Knocking  on  the  earth  and  calling: 
"Come  ye  forth,  oh  hidden  flowers, 
Haste,  for  these  are  now  your  hours, 
Come  and  brighten  up  the  green 
With  your  dainty  color's  sheen." 

April  showers  fast  a-falling, 
Rap  upon  the  fruit  trees,  calling : 
"Blossoms  white  and  blossoms  gay, 
Come  ye  forth,  it's  nearly  May, 
Early  flowers  wait  to  greet  you, 
Long  to  welcome  and  to  meet  you." 


Seeing   Through 


SONG 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  morning, 

For  it  means  the  end  of  night; 
I  thank  Thee  for  the  dawning 

And  the  coming  of  the  light ;        , 
I  thank  Thee,  O  my  Father,  for  the  morning. 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  noon-tide 
And  the  busy  hours  of  day; 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  toil-side 

As  its  hours  pass  swift  away; 
I  thank  Thee,  O  my  Father,  for  the  noon-tide. 

I  thank  Thee  for  the  twilight, 

For  the  sunset's  rosy  glow, 
For  rest  that  follows  labor, 

For  the  quiet  winds  that  blow; 
I  thank  Thee,  O  my  Father,  for  the  twilight. 

For  morning,  noon,  and  evening, 

O  God  in  Heaven  above, 
I  praise  Thee  and  I  bless  Thee, 

And  I  give  Thee  back  my  love; 
My  Father  of  the  morning,  noon,  and  evening. 

Used  by  permission  of  Charles  Gilbert  Spross, 
Composer. 


29 


Seeing  Through 


THE  AFTERMATH  OF  SNOW 

The  ice  lay  over  the  northern  world, 

And  a  blanket  of  snowy  white 
Covered  each  place  where  the  flowers  grew 

In  the  spring  and  the  summer's  light. 

Then  the  sun  shone  over  the  ice-bound  fields 

And  the  forests  bleak  and  bare, 
Shone  through  the  leafless,  winter  trees 

And  scattered  a  promise  there. 

"The  snow  fulfilleth  His  word,"  it  cried, 

As  it  sent  its  warm  rays  down, 
"And  under  the  snow,  tiny  violets  grow, 

And  under  the  hard  earth  brown." 

But  the  old  earth  said :  "I  am  dead,  quite  dead, 

Neither  blossom  nor  fruit  I'll  bear 
The  ice  has  frozen  me  through  and  through 
And  sounded  my  death-knell  air." 

Then  the  sun  grew  pale,  and  an  April  shower 

Fell  on  the  hardened  ground, 
And  when  it  fled,  the  ground  so  dead 

Was  softened  in  one  short  hour. 

And  the  red  and  the  silver  maple  trees 

Soon  filled  with  their  spring-time  bloom, 
And  spring-time  flowers  came  forth  each  hour, 
scattered  the  winter's  gloom. 


Seeing  Through 


CLOUDS 

Back  of  the  clouds  where  the  shadows  lie, 
Back  of  the  grey  and  the  black  and  blue; 
Great,  golden  sunbeams  are  hiding  by 
Tints  of  the  morning  and  roseate  hue. 

Say,  did'st  thou  think,  as  the  black  clouds  hung 
Over  the  rose  and  the  mauve  and  gold, 
That  the  funeral  hymn  of  day  was  sung, 
And  morning  would  nevermore  unfold? 

Back  of  thy  path  where  the  shadows  lie 
Back  of  the  doubt  and  the  care  and  pain, 
God's  golden  sunbeams  are  hiding  by 
Tints  of  the  dawning  where  night  has  lain. 

Back  of  the  clouds  is  the  golden  day 
When  doubt  and  care  and  pain  shall  be  past; 
When  glowing  sunshine  shall  come — and  stay, 
And  God  will  banish  the  clouds  at  last. 


Seeing  Through 


THE  BURDEN  BEARER 

He  never  sends  a  burden,  but  He  brings  it 

Friend  of  mine  long  burdened  down  with  bundles 
grim; 

The  Master  who  has  meted  out  your  burden 
Counts  you  bearing  it  along — along  with  Him. 

He  never  sends  a  sorrow,  but  He  brings  it; 

The  sisters  twain  of  Bethany  could  tell, — 
The  Saviour, — who  is  full  of  heart-compassion, 

Makes  the  heart-ache  and  the  heart-break  to  be 
well. 

He  never  sends  discouragement,  but  brings  it, 
And  gently  says:   "My  courage,  Child,  is  thine; 

The  tragedy  of  disappointed  moments 

Is  measured  for  thy  strength — thy  strength  plus 
mine." 

He  never  sends  temptation,  but  He  brings  it ; 

It's  subtle,  snaring  beauty  well  He  knows. 
You  with  Him  may  conquer  Satan's  machinations, 

You  with  Him, — with  Him,  may  conquer  all  your 
foes. 

He  never  sendeth  death,  but  He  comes  with  him, — 
The  Father's  sable-coated  porter  he, — 

Who  leads  us  through  the  gateway  he  holds  open, 
Safe  with  Him, — with  Him,  for  all  Eternity. 


Seeing  Through 


IN  UNION  STRENGTH 

The  commingling  of  peace  and  of  pain, 
The  combining  of  loss  and  of  gain, 
The  Union  of  health  and  disease, 
Of  days  grinding  toil,  and  of  ease — 

Why  together  they  go, 

I  am  eager  to  know 
And  an  answer  I  ask  if  you  please? 

From  the  pillows  where  pain  holds  full  sway 
Gentle  voices  make  answer  to-day, 
"The  dear  Lord  in  His  life-planning,  knew 
Just  how  needful  to  me  and  to  you 

Was  a  portion  of  joy 

And  a  trace  of  alloy 
And  a  union  He  planned  of  the  two." 

Brightest  roses  to  bloom  in  the  morn, 
Brightest  roses  of  perfume — and  thorn 
Brightest  sunshine  and  glory  of  light, 
Deepest  shadows — and  stars  for  the  night. 

O,  the  wisdom  of  Love, 

Other  wisdom  above 
Who  hath  measured  each  portion  aright. 


Seeing  Through 


"WHATSOEVER  THINGS  YE  NEED" 

"Whatsoever  things  ye  need," 
Tell  me,  is  it  true? 
Does  God  really  give  the  things 
That  you  need  to  you? 

First  a  soldier,  scarred  and  worn 
From  the  firing  line, 
Rose  before  me  with  salute : 
"Yes,  sir,  every  time." 

Then  a  writer,  pushing  back 
Pad  and  pen  and  ink, 
"Christ  has  helped  me  every  time, 
Helped  me  write  and  think." 

Spoke  a  mother,  bending  low 
O'er  her  children  three: 
"Never,  never  when  I  called, 
But  He  answered  me." 

Spoke  a  woman  from  the  mill, 
With  a  faith  sublime: 
"Yes  sir,  at  the  shuttle,  sir, 
Yes  sir,  every  time." 


34 


Seeing  Through 


Spoke  a  "little  mother"  worn 
With  her  charges  wee: 
"Jesus  tells  me  what  to  do, 
Watches  them  with  me." 

Spoke  a  youth  with  eyes  aflame 
With  the  fire  of  love: 
"Jesus  gives  me  what  I  need, 
Straight  from  heaven  above." 

Spoke  a  father  on  whose  head 
Rested  winter's  snow; 
"Christ  has  met  my  every  need 
Fourscore  years  or  so." 

Then  in  chorus  strong  and  clear 
Faith's  triumphant  chime: 
"Christ  supplies  our  every  need, 
Yes  sir,  every  time." 


35 


Seeing   Through 


PUSSY'S  SONG 

Pussy  Willows  come  to  say : 
"Spring  comes  nearer  every  day ; 
Winter  soon  will  pass  away, — 
That  is  why  we  sing. 

Soon  will  vanish  winter  snow, 
Maple  buds  begin  to  grow, 
Soon  the  violets  will  show, — 
Birds  be  on  the  wing." 

Optimistic  Pussy's  song 
Trailing  greening  spring  along; 
Tell  it  out  both  loud  and  strong 
Just,  just  why  you  sing. 


Seeing  Through 


A  JUNIPER  TREE 

I've  been  and  sat  under  a  juniper  tree, 

I'm  really  most  shamed  to  confess; 

And  the  ground  was  as  damp  as  ground  could  be, 

With  spirit-rheumatics,  I  guess. 

I've  been  and  sat  under  a  juniper  tree, 
(For  shame, — for  'tis  poisonous  air,) 
How  did  I  get  out,  put  the  "blues  all  to  rout?" 
I  got  out  by  the  pathway  of  prayer. 

I've  been  and  sat  under  a  juniper  tree, 

And  minor  the  music  I  heard, 

A  weepin',  lamentin'  and  loneliest  tune, — 

I  got  out  by  the  aid  of  God's  Word. 

******        *        *        *        *       * 

If  ever  you  get  neath  a  juniper  tree, — 

(Folks  do,  you  know,  once  in  a  while,) 

Pray  a  prayer,  read  God's  Word,  you  will  know  He 

has  heard, 
And  come  out  with  your  face  all  a-smile. 


37 


Seeing  Through 


"THE  SEA  IS  HIS" 

What  does  the  ocean  say  to  you, 

With  its  white-capped  waves,  and  its  line  of  blue; 

What  is  the  message  that  it  brings, 

What  is  the  song  its  music  sings? 

This  is  the  song :  Oh,  sing  it  clear 
That  those  far  off  may  also  hear: 
"God  holds  the  sea  in  His  control, 
Holds  the  vast  sea  and  holds  my  soul." 

Is  there  another  message,  pray, 
That  the  ocean  brings  to  you  to-day? 
"Yes,  this — that  its  depth  can  ne'er  be  told, 
Nor  His  love  for  you, — not  in  figures  bold." 

And  is  there  still  a  message  more, 
From  the  breaking  waves  on  the  shell-strewn  shore? 
"Yes,  His  love  is  wide,  touches  every  land 
Where  the  breakers  beat  on  the  whitened  sand." 

God's  sea.    He  made  it.    The  water  deep 
Is  a  symbol  of  love  that  can  each  one  keep ; 
The  tide,  of  His  cleansing,  holy  power 
To  purge  my  sin  in  my  darkest  hour. 


Seeing  Through 


ENVOY! 

"My  God,  for  the  sea  my  thanks  I  raise, 
Lift  up  my  voice  in  reverent  praise; 
I  thank  Thee  Lord  for  the  eyes  to  see 
Thyself  in  the  mirror  of  the  sea." 

LIGHTED  LAMPS 

One  by  one  the  city  lights 

Shine  the  darkness  through, 
Sometimes  break  forth  one  by  one 

'Gainst  the  evening  blue, 
Sometimes  like  a  string  of  light 

All  at  once  from  left  to  right, 
And  I  know  some  hidden  power 

Lights  the  city  lamps  this  hour. 

On  thy  servants  one  and  all, 

Oh,  divinest  Light, 
Make  Thy  brightness  forth  to  shine 

In  this  world  of  night, 
Till  the  world  that  sees  the  glow 

Seeketh  for  the  Cause  to  know, 
Knowing  that  an  Unseen  Power 

Lights  Thy  servants  lamps  this  hour. 


39 


Seeing  Through 


"THERE" 

"There"  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest, 
"There"  the  saints  of  earth  are  gathered  as  white 

birds  unto  their  nest, 
"There"  the  weary,  footsore  pilgrim  ends  his  eager, 

life-long  quest. 

"There"   earth's  solitary  children  who  have  gone 

life's  way  alone 
Shall  have  blessed,  sweet  re-unions  near  the  glorious, 

sun-lit  throne, 
And  shall  meet,  and  greet,  and  linger  there  with 

those  they  call  their  own. 

"There"  earth's  suffering,  worn-out  bodies  racked 

with  many  years  of  pain 
Shall  find  health  and  springing  gladness  come  to 

greet  them  once  again, 
And  they  nevermore  shall  suffer  who  have  long  on 

pain  beds  lain. 

"There"  earth's  pilgrims  who  were  longing  for  the 

coming  of  their  King 
Shall  be  gathered  in  His  presence  and  their  joyous 

praises  sing, 
And  shall  bow,  and  kneel,  and  worship  and  their 

adoration  bring. 


Seeing   Through 


ELROI 

(The  God  of  Seeing) 

"He  saw  them."    What  were  they  doing,  Pray? 

Those  fisher-folk  of  long  ago, 
In  the  morning  light  on  Galilee 

'Mid  the  tide's  soft  ebb  and  flow. 

"He  saw  them."    What  were  they  doing,  Pray? 

Peter  and  Andrew  toiling  there 
Looking  in  grief  at  their  empty  boat 

As  the  sun  rose  full  and  fair. 

"He  saw  them."    What  were  they  doing,  Pray? 

Sons  of  Zebedee  long  ago 
Mending  their  nets  with  their  sun-burned  hands 

While  their  weary  heads  bent  low. 

"He  called  them."    What  was  the  message,  pray? 

Called  to  the  four  while  the  light  was  dim. 
I  know  not,  save  that  they  "left  their  nets," 

And  "straightway"  they  followed  Him. 

ENVOY 

He  calls  us.    What  is  His  message,  pray? 

Sounded  still  with  persuasive  voice, 
Toil-worn  our  hands,  and  our  heads  bent  low 

We  hear  it,  and  we  rejoice. 


Seeing  Through 


We  hear  it.    What  is  our  answer,  pray? 

Men  and  women  and  children, — all. 
We  leave  our  "nets"  and  our  "fishing"  leave, 

And  follow  the  Master's  call. 

FAITH 

I  cannot  doubt.    The  thunders'  loudest  roar, 
The  lightening's  sudden  flash,  is  but  a  sign, — 
A  sign  that  peace  shall  reign  when  storms  are  o'er, 
And  I  shall  see  the  rainbow,  arch  and  line. 

I  cannot  doubt.    Though  friends  shall  sudden  go, 
Though  sudden  gaps  shall  leave  me  lone  and  sad, — 
For  God  shall  make  the  very  silence  glow 
With  warmth  and  comfort,  and  my  heart  be  glad. 

I  cannot  doubt.    Though  pain  its  shadows  throw, 
And  trembling  flings  across  my  robe  of  strength, 
My  heart  beneath  its  mantle  strong  shall  grow, 
And  patience  crown  the  days'  most  weary  length. 

I  cannot  doubt.    Though  death  its  call  should  sound, 
And  I  give  up  this  transient  house  of  clay. 
Christ  is  my  life,  in  Him  my  hopes  abound ; 
Through  Him  I  live  in  realms  of  endless  day. 


42 


Seeing  Through 


THE  INCLINE  PATHWAY 

When   there's   no   way   out   and    there's   no   way 

through, 

Try  the  path  of  incline  though  the  road  be  new ; 
When  you  cannot  work  and  there's  no  release, 
When  earth's  notes  have  jarred  all  the  chords  of 

peace, 

When  there's  nothing  hopeful  you  can  think  or  do, 
By  the  incline  pathway  you  can  come  clear  through. 

When  there's  no  way  over  and  no  way  through, 
When  low  clouds  have  hidden  the  sky's  vast  blue, 
When  your  way  is  lonely  and  the  tears  fall  fast, 
When  earth's  joys  seem  writ  all  in  tenses  past, 
When  your  feet  are  weary  and  a  rest  your  due, 
On  the  incline  pathway  there  waits  rest  for  you. 

For  the  incline  pathway's  a  strangesome  road, 
When  trav'lers  carry  each  with  ease  his  load, 
Where  dear  companions  greet  us  on  our  way, 
Where  a  Guide  precedes  us  lest  our  worn  feet  stray 
And  the  black  clouds  yield  to  the  sky's  sweet  blue 
On   the   incline   pathway   where   you   come   clear 
through. 


43 


Seeing  Through 


HEBREWS  2:12 

"Who  for  the  joy."    What  hint  of  vision,  reaching 

Into  the  far  off  vistas  of  the  years; 
Seeing  their  end  from  immature  beginnings, 

Counting  their  joys  worth  all  their  pain  and  tears. 

"Who  for  the  joy."    What  was  that  joy,  surpassing 
And  making  worth  the  while  all  earthly  loss? 

Joy  so  complete  that  naught  with  it  compareth, 
Maketh  worth  while  the  suff'ring  of  the  Cross? 

"Who  for  the  joy."    Turn,  turn  the  pages  over, 
See  where  He  speaks  another  time  of  this, 

In  wondrous  words  that  gain  with  years  of  reading, 
Hear  as  He  speaks  of  earth  and  Heaven's  bliss: 

Lo,  one  wee  lamb  hath  from  the  fold  outwandered, 
Sought  him  out  pastures  that  were  fresh  and  new, 

Sought  him  cool  waters  he  had  never  tasted, 
Gloried  in  freedom  till  the  evening  dew. 

Then,  then  the  Shepherd,  that  one  wee  lamb  missing 
Setteth  Him  forth  the  wand'ring  one  to  find ; 

Searcheth  and  calleth,  till  at  last  rewarded 

He  that  went  forth  to  seek  at  length  doth  find. 


44 


Seeing  Through 


Safe  on  His  shoulder  to  the  fold  He  beareth 

That  one  wee  wand'ring  lamb, — and   then  you 
read 

That  "God  rejoiceth  in  the  angels'  presence," 

That  "There  is  joy  in  Heaven,  true  joy  indeed." 

"Who  for  the  joy."    That  joy  to  us  He  giveth, 
And  we,  like  Him,  may  seek  and  we  may  find 

Those  who  have  wandered  on  sin's  roadway,  weary — 
Nor  know  the  pathway  back, — whose  eyes  are 
blind. 

And  we  His  joy  may  share,  and  in  the  sharing 
May  come  to  count  our  cross  a  little  thing; 

Glory  with  Him  in  His  own  best  rejoicing, 
In  that  one  joy  that  makes  the  angels  sing. 


45 


Seeing  Through 


"NOW,  THEREFORE  SING  A  SONG" 

"Now,  therefore  sing  a  song," 

The  Lord  God  spoke. 
And  Moses,  soon  to  go  the  long,  long  trail 
With  eyes  on  fire  and  mind  alert  did  hail 
The  call,  and  broke  forth  into  music  sweet 

That  ages  long  repeat. 

"Give  ear  and  I  will  speak, 

God's  name  proclaim, 
His  way  is  perfect,  just  and  right  is  he, 
He  finds,  He  keeps,  brings  help  to  you  and  me, 
Brings  honey  from  the  rock,  honey  and  oil, 

These  for  the  men  who  toil." 

"Now,  therefore  sing  a  song," 

The  Lord  God  spoke, 

Moses  is  gone  long  since,  God  speaks  to  men 
Of  very  simple  sort,  in  simple  vein: 
"Write  what  you  know  of  Me,  proven  and  plain, 

Write  you  a  song  again." 

Now,  therefore  will  I  sing, 

My  voice  lift  high, 

My  morning  song  shall  be  a  song  of  praise, 
In  noon  time  heat  again  my  voice  I'd  raise 
And  when  night  falls  I'd  sing  for  all  the  days 

When  God  was  nigh. 


Seeing  Through 


"SHINE  INSIDE" 

"Shine  Inside."    So  read  the  sign, 

And  one  who  saw  it  paused  awhile, 
His  thoughts  upon  a  sermon  bent; 
And  this  his  text, — I  saw  him  smile, — 
Just:  "Shine  Inside." 

I  heard  the  sermon  and  was  glad 

The  bootblack's  sign  was  plain  to  all, 

I  wonder  just  how  many  caught 
The  message,  and  would  heed  its  call 
To  "Shine  Inside." 


47 


Seeing  Through 


ON  A  CITY  ROOF 

I  thought  the  country-side  alone  might  know 
The  marvel  of  the  sunset  and  its  glow ; 

See  yellow  pale  to  white, 

See  crimson  change  to  quite 
A  pale  pink  glow. 

But  I  to-night  have  seen  the  glory-light 
Flanking  cathedral  spires  to  left  and  right, 

And  shining  clear  between 

A  dazzling  sunset  sheen, 
God's  love  to  show. 

On   the   roof  of  the   Bible  Teachers'   Training 
School  looking  toward  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  1918. 


Seeing  Through 


"AS  A  LITTLE  CHILD" 

Suggested  by  a  sermon  preached  by  Rev.  John 
Kelman,  D.  D.,  on  Christmas  morning,  1919. 

A  little  child  with  sun-lit  face 
Gazed  at  the  bright  blue  sky 
Spread  by  the  good  Creator's  hand 
Over  the  world  so  high, 
When  tiny  clouds  sailed  from  the  North 
Across  the  sky — God  spread, — 
And  the  child  turned  to  her  mother, 
And  these  the  words  she  said : 

"Mother,  What  are  the  white,  white  clouds 

That  sail  across  the  blue?" 

The  Mother  told  of  rain-drops  stored 

That  should  the  earth  renew — 

The  child's  face  fell, — she  looked  away 

Into  the  clouded  sky: 

"I  thought  maybe  they  were  shadows 

Of  angels  passing  bye, 

Shadows  of  bright,  bright  angels 

That  live  with  God  on  high." 


49 


Seeing  Through 


O,  little  child  of  sun-lit  face 

I  better  understand 

Why  Christ  said  "as  a  little  child" 

We  enter  glory  land. 

Like  you  would  I  be  pure  in  heart 

That  sky  and  sea  and  air 

May  be  but  windows  through  whose  panes 

I  see  God  everywhere! 

NOVEMBER 

Shadows  grey  and  a  darkened  sky, 
Clouds  that  the  wind  sends  hurrying  by, 
Leafless  trees  with  their  boughs  held  high : 
This,  this  is  just  November! 

Hoar-frost  white  at  the  break  of  day, 

Chattering  sparrows  that  idling  play, 

Rustling  leaves  on  the  lawns  that  stay : 

This,  this  is  just  November! 

Blazing  logs  on  the  hearth-stone  bright, 
Frost  fast  sketching  the  windows  white, 
Warmth  and  comfort  in-doors  to-night : 
This,  this  is  just  November. 


Seeing  Through 


THE  SPRING-TIME  WOODS 

I 

I  walked  far  out  in  the  woods  to-day 

The  woods  where  the  spring  flowers  grow, 

And  one  ran  purple  with  violets, 
And  one  with  the  blood  root's  snow. 

II 

I  walked  far  out  in  the  woods  to-day, 
And  parting  the  Spring-time  grass 

I  looked  deep  in  the  heart  of  a  primrose, 
And  worshipping,  saw  God  pass. 

Ill 
I  walked  far  out  in  the  woods  to-day 

Where  Jack-in-the-pulpits  ^rew, 
Where  Iris  bordered  the  marshy  bank, 

And  I  worshipped  God's  touch  anew. 

IV 

0  God  of  the  wonderful,  deep,  deep  woods 
Where  the  Spring-time  flowers  grow, 

1  thank  Thee  anew  for  each  flower's  hue 
And  the  soft  warming  earth  below. 


Seeing  Through 


GOD'S  PAINTER  FROM  THE  NORTH 

God  sent  a  painter  from  the  North 

With  brush  and  pencils  fine; 
He  asks  no  canvas  for  his  art, 

But  on  my  window, — mine, — 
He  sketches  stars  and  tiny  flowers 

In  daintiest  design. 

God  sent  a  painter  from  the  North 

With  O,  so  fine  a  quill, 
He  sketches  on  my  wide  front  lawn 

And  on  my  window  sill, 
And  decorates  with  ferns  of  ice 

To  demonstrate  his  skill. 

****** 

Some  say  that  Jack  Frost  has  come  forth, — 
I  say:    "God's  painter  from  the  North." 


Seeing  Through 


BIRDS  IN  NOVEMBER 

A  flock  of  birds  is  sailing  by, 

Sailing  by,  sailing  by, 
And  with  each  turning  higher  fly, 
Till  they  seem  but  specks  gainst  a  leaden  sky 
A  flock  of  birds  in  November! 

A  flock  of  birds  has  fluttered  low, 
Fluttered  low,  fluttered  low 
To  a  tree  where  bright  red  berries  grow, 
Then  shelter  the  fir  tree's  arms  below, 
A  flock  of  birds  in  November ! 


53 


Seeing  Through 


"NOT  ONE  SPARROW" 

0  little  sparrow,  with  your  coat  of  brown, 

With  strangely  dull  and  sometimes  mottled  wing, 
With  beauty  none  with  which  to  lure  the  eye, 
With  not  a  song  to  thrill  me  as  you  sing. 

1  never  see  your  little  homely  wings 

But  there  within  me  wells  a  note  of  praise, 

At  thought  of  Him  who  marks  the  sparrow's  fall, 

And  I  instead  of  you  a  song  up-raise. 

Down  on  the  ground  you  may  not  fall  unseen — 
Between  you  and  the  earth  the  hand  divine 
Waits  to  restore  you  to  your  leafy  bough 
Nor  leave  you  with  a  broken  wing  to  pine. 

0  little  sparrow  with  your  homely  wings 

1  love  each  feather,  mottled,  brown  or  gray, 
I  love  your  simple  chirp  in  place  of  song, 
Your  optimism  and  your  manner  gay. 

If  only  I  might  tell  to  all  below 
The  message  that  the  little  sparrows  bring, 
My  life  would  make  doxologies  to  flow, 
And  all  who  know  me  look  to  God  and  sing. 


54 


Seeing  Through 


DEUT.  8:2-5 

"Thou  shalt  remember" — Shall  I  remember 
All  of  life's  doubt  and  its  failures  and  fears, 
All  of  its  anguish  and  all  its  temptations, 
All  of  its  cares  and  its  pain  and  its  tears? 

"Thou  shalt  remember" — I  will  remember 
Doubting  and  failure  and  anguish  and  fear, 
Calmly  look  back  on  the  deep  hours  of  darkness, 
Praising  my  God  that  His  presence  was  near. 

"Thou  shalt  remember" — I  will  remember 
Subtle  temptation,  long  care,  pain  and  tears, 
Counting  His  help  in  direct  upheaval, 
Praising  His  faithfulness  all  through  the  years. 

"Thou  shalt  remember" — I  will  remember 
Thank  God  for  victories  won  on  the  way, 
Lift  up  my  eyes  to  the  hills  whence  He  cometh, 
Wait  His  appearing, — remember  and  pray. 


55 


Seeing  Through 


SUGGESTION 

God  hides  Himself  in  a  flower, 
And  rides  on  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
He  shines  in  the  stars  of  the  heavens, 
Each  one  just  suggests  Him  to  me. 

God  hides  Himself  in  the  mountains, 
In  round  hills  and  plains  and  the  lea, 
In  moon-beams  light  on  the  water 
Each  one  just  suggests  Him  to  me. 

Oh  God  of  creation,  I  bless  Thee, 
For  Thine  impress  on  things  Thou  hast  made, 
That  Thy  face  shines  forth  in  creation, 
Thy  likeness  in  sunshine  and  shade. 

For  Thy  voice  in  the  noise  of  earth's  waters, 
Thy  stillness  and  rest  in  the  green, 
Thy  strength  in  the  mountains  up-reaching, 
Thy  glory  in  everything  seen ! 


Seeing  Through 


PRAYER  AT  A  CROSS-ROAD 

Grant  me  to  know  Thy  will,  Oh  Lord,  and  do  it, 
Nay  grant  me  more,  for  more  is  my  desire, — 
Grant  me  to  know  Thy  will,  Oh  Lord,  and  love  it, 
Touch  my  desire  with  love-enkindled  fire! 

Purge  the  impure  of  second-best  desirings 
'Till  all  the  dross  is  quite  consumed  away ; 
Grant  me  to  come  with  passionate  inquirings 
To  know  Thy  will,  and  loving  to  obey ! 


57 


Seeing  Through 


DEUT.  1 130-33 

Jehovah  your  God,  He  goeth  before  you, 
He  goeth  before  you  in  the  way, 
Showeth  a  place  to  pitch  your  tent  in, 
Guideth  with  fire  and  by  cloud  each  day. 

Jehovah  your  God,  He  goeth  before  you, 
Why  do  ye  murmur  your  tents  within, 
Why  do  your  hearts  make  wild  complaining, 
Why  do  you  doubt  Him?   To  doubt  is  sin. 

Jehovah  your  God,  He  goeth  before  you, 
Has  He  not  led  in  days  that  are  passed  ? 
Peace,  dear  heart  then,  He  will  not  fail  you, 
Follow,  nor  doubt,  He  leads  Home  at  last. 


Seeing  Through 


PRAYER  IN  DISTRESS 

Lord,  take  me  up  into  Thy  loving  arms, 
The  way  is  long  and  hard  and  I  am  worn ; 
Alone,  in  my  heart's  depths,  save  but  for  Thee, 
Lord,  take  me  up.     Leave  not  my  soul  forlorn! 

Lord,  take  me  up  into  Thy  loving  arms, 
Foes  cannot  see  nor  yet  friends  understand; 
I  would  do  right, — would  loyal  be  to  Thee, 
Lead  me,  dear  Lord ;  lead  me  by  Thine  own  hand ! 

Lord,  it  is  there,  writ  there  in  words  of  fire 

That  "underneath  are  everlasting  arms." 

It  is  enough,  it  answers  my  desire, 

Soothes  all  my  heart-ache,  stills  my  wild  alarms. 


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COMPENSATION 

Compensation?  'Tis  a  payment  for  that  we've  suf 
fered  loss, 

A  crown  by  God  bestowed  to  pay  us  for  our  cross. 
But  nay,  not  so  'tis  written,  for  in  the  word  I  read 
A  very  different  story  for  those  who  stop  to  heed : 

I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  can  never  be  compared 
With  the  glory  that  shall  follow,  by  Christ  Himself 

prepared ; 
For  the  glory,  Oh,  the  glory,  by  far  out-weighs  the 

pain, 
And  they  who  suffer  deepest  have  glory  more  to  gain. 

And  it  isn't  something  even,  but  something  added  to, 

It's  an  extra  and  a  surplus  and  not  just  what  is  due; 

When  God  says  compensation  it  is  something  added 
more, 

When  He  can't  Himself  compare  it,  it's  glory  brim 
ming  o'er. 


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ISA.  42:3 
"A  bruised  reed  will  he  not  break" 

What  does  God  do  with  a  bruised  reed 
Flayed  by  the  storm  and  wind, 

Trampled  by  cattle  or  alien  feet, 
God  who  is  love  most  kind  ? 

This  what  He  does  with  a  bruised  reed : 

Makes  of  the  reed  a  lute, 
Plays  on  each  broken  reed  His  tune, 

Makes  of  each  one  His  flute. 

Songs  of  healing  for  hearts  a-torn, 
Of  dawn  that  is  on  the  way, 

Of  rest  for  the  weary,  travel-worn 
Tired  of  the  long,  long  day. 

Wonderous  music !  'Tis  God  alone 
Can  make  the  bruised  reed  sing, 

Strong,  compassionate,  tender,  sweet, 
God's  broken  reed  flutes  sing. 


Seeing  Through 


HOME 

I'm  going  home! 
Not  to  the  city  where  I  live, 
Not  to  the  village  street  I  know, 
Not  to  some  shaded  mountain  spot 
Where  soft  the  evening  breezes  blow ; 
Not  to  a  place  on  maps  plain  shown 
Not  a  location,  I'm  going  home, 

Home  to  the  heart  of  you ! 


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REV.  9:15 

My  Father  God  has  a  calendar  pad 

He  keeps  on  His  desk  close  by 
With  dates  He  planned  from  eternity 

To  answer  His  children's  cry. 

"And  the  year  and  month  and  day  and  hour" 

(For  so  in  the  Book  we  read) 
He  looks  again  at  His  calendar  pad 

And  meets  all  our  deepest  need. 

Then  patience,  dear  child,  with  the  troubled  brow 

Endure  just  one  brief  moment  more, 
Thy  name  from  eternity  God  has  inscribed, 
Nor  o'er  looks  one  need,  I  am  sure. 


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HEB.  12:11 

"Nevertheless  afterward ;" 
Words  of  deep  meaning, 
How  may  I  enter  that  "afterward"  day? 
Long  have  I  suffered, 
"Not  joyous  but  grievous" 
Has  been  the  temper  and  tone  of  my  way. 

"Nevertheless  afterward ;" 
Words  of  sweet  promise, 
Bathing  my  wounds  in  a  balm  like  to  oil, 
Sure  'tis  worth  waiting  for, 
Day  that  is  pregnant, 
Bringing  me  rest  from  my  labor  and  toil. 

"Nevertheless  afterward ;" 
I  will  wait  calmly, 

Back  of  the  cloud  I  see  gold  hiding  by, 
Night's  at  an  end,  and  dawn  is  awaking, 
"Blessed  be  God,"  I  press  onward  and  cry. 


Seeing  Through 


"GOD'S  MINUTE" 

You  who  endure  what  seems  past  all  enduring, 
Endure  one  moment  more, — right  now, — begin  it. 

That  moment  is  the  moment  of  God's  power, 
Tis  called,  and  I  think  rightly,  just:  God's  minute. 

PSALM  23 

"In  pastures  green."    I  scan  my  road, — 
I  thank  my  God  for  sloping  green, 
For  light  and  shade  on  leafy  trees, 
I  thank  Him  for  the  restful  sheen. 

"In  pastures  green."    I  scan  the  road, — 
Huge  boulders  rise  and  block  the  way. 
I  must  go  'round,  or  climb  a'top, 
No  longer  on  the  green  sward  stay. 

"In  paths  of  righteousness"  He  guides, 
And  shall  I  fear  the  way  He  takes? 
He  guides; — His  touch  is  on  my  arm, 
His  leadership  fresh  courage  wakes. 

"In  pastures  green."    A  mound  upturned, — 
His  hand  upon  my  own  is  laid ; 
He  leadeth  still ;  that  is  enough, 
I  weep,  but  I  am  not  afraid. 


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Seeing  Through 


"In  death's  dark  vale."    Deep  shadows  lie 
Between  me  and  the  sun's  bright  ray. 
I  cannot  see  for  tears  that  fall. 
In  shadow-land  He  leads  the  way. 

"My  enemies"  around  me  stand, 
Behind  my  back  their  plots  are  laid  ; 
His  table  in  their  midst  is  spread, 
Christ  is  my  Host,  am  I  dismayed  ? 

My  wounds!   Good  God,  Thou  knowest  all. 
The  agonies  and  bitter  tears, 
Long  months  of  pain,  the  sleepless  nights 
Fierce  struggles,  mental  hopes  and  fears. 

Thine  oil.     Oh,  loving  Shepherd  King, 
"With  oil  my  head  Thou  dost  anoint." 
Thy  hands  pour  blessing  on  my  head, 
Thou  dost  my  every  way  appoint. 

So  every  place  and  all  my  days, 
"Goodness  and  mercy  follow  me," 
My  lonely  hours  shall  pass  away, 
In  God's  own  house  at  home  I'll  be. 

Oh,  Shepherd  Christ,  lead  Thou  me  still. 
I  take  Thy  hand.    I  give  Thee  mine. 
Lead  through  life's  journey  long  or  brief. 
Hold  Thou  my  hand  as  I  hold  Thine. 


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REV.  3:4 

"They  shall  walk  with  Me  in  white" 

In  that  day; 
Overcomers,  every  one 

On  life's  way; 

Glistening  are  their  robes  and  bright, 
Overcomers  of  the  night, 
"They  shall  walk  with  me  in  white" 

In  that  day. 

"They  have  walked  with  me  in  white" 

All  the  way; 
Overcomers,  every  one 

Every  day. 

Sin  has  left  no  shade  of  night, 
Sin  has  wrought  no  darksome  blight, 
"They  have  walked  with  me  in  white" 

All  the  way. 


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SAFE— WITH  HIM 

Safe, — to  the  other  side  with  Him. 

Loudly  the  thunders  crash. 
Blinding  the  lightning,  rent  the  sky, 

Fiercely  the  wild  winds  lash. 

Safe, — to  the  other  side  with  Him, 

Filling  the  boat  is  now; 
Rising  the  storm,  a  furious  gale, 

Jesus  is  in  the  bow. 

Safe, — to  the  other  side  with  Him. 

Once  did  the  Master  sleep. 
Now  evermore  alert,  awake, 

Constant,  long  vigils  keep ! 

Safe, — to  the  other  side  with  Him. 

Storms  now  convey  no  fear. 
I  shall  arrive,  storm-tossed  but  safe, 

He  will  my  rude  barque  steer. 

Safe, — O,  my  Lord,  forgive  the  fear, 
The  faithless,  wild  dismay; 

I  ask  not  peace,  but  only  this: 
That  Thou  go  not  away. 

Safe, — I  ask  not  to  still  the  wind, 
Nor  stop  the  wild  waves'  roar. 

Safe, — to  the  other  side  with  Thee, 
Then  safe  forevermore. 

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Seeing  Through 


THERE'S  A  BLESSING  AS  YOU  GO 
THROUGH 

Is  the  far,  far  distant,  the  wondrous  day 

That  is  going  to  come  to  you, 
Do  your  eyes  look  off  to  the  future  way 
Where  storms  shall  cease  and  the  soft  winds  play 
And  where  life  is  ever  one  glorious  day? 
Then  listen,  my  friend,  for  I  want  to  say: 

There's  a  blessing  as  you  go  through. 

Are  you  counting  the  weeks  and  months  and  years 

That  lie  far  ahead  of  you 
And  watching  the  sky  till  the  storm-cloud  clears 
While  you  sigh  and  there  rise  all  unworthy  fears 
(As  you  murmur,  impatient,  through  unshed  tears) 
Why  wait  'til  some  day  far  distant  nears  ? 

There's  a  blessing  as  you  go  through. 

Down  in  Egypt's  land  in  the  long  ago 

When  Israel  bondage  knew 
We  hear  Joseph  saying:  "But  God,"  you  know, 
And  down  where  the  Red  Sea  waters  flow 
In  wilderness  days  neath  the  guide-cloud's  glow 
They  felt  God's  hand  as  they'd  onward  go 

And  a  blessing  as  they  went  through. 


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Oh,  waste  not  your  strength  with  impatient  ways ; 

There's  a  blessing  to-day  for  you ! 
Be  the  mountains  high  and  the  roads  a  maze 
Look  up,  sing  a  song,  lift  a  note  of  praise 
There  is  light  enough  for  the  darkest  days 
'Till  you  see  as  you  some  day  backward  gaze 

All  the  blessings  as  you  came  through. 

PRAYER  AFTER  DEFEAT 

Lord,   I  have  much,  so  much  for  which  to  thank 
Thee, 

To-night  my  heart  goes  out  in  grateful  praise ; 
Forgive  me  that  my  harp  has  long  been  silent 

And  only  cries  and  sobbings  could  I  raise. 

Forgive  me,  Lord  my  weak  and  ill  repinings, 
My  keen  distress  because  I  could  not  see, 

And  help  me  Lord,  if  falls  again  the  darkness 
To  know  that  in  the  dark  I  shall  find  Thee. 


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"THINGS  GOD  PREPARES" 
I  Cor.  2:9 

By  eyes  unseen, 

By  ears  unheard, 

By  human  heart  quite  unconceived, 
These  things  hath  God  the  Lord  prepared 
For  those  who  have  His  truth  believed. 

I  wonder  what 

The  Lord  God  plans? 
I  wonder  if  in  love  a  smile 
Breaks  o'er  His  face  as  He  prepares 
Things  I  have  longed  for  this  long  while. 

Then  when  'tis  done, 

All  I  had  wished, 
He  adds  an  extra  unconceived, 
Exceeding  far  my  largest  thought 
Because  I  have  His  love  received. 


Seeing  Through 


POINTING  GODWARD 

The  country  Godward  points,  I  said, 
Each  tree  lifts  high  its  spiral  head, 
The  flowers  skyward  soar  and  grow, 
The  vines  reach  upward  as  they  go, 
And  everywhere  my  eyes  were  lead : 
The  country  points  to  God  I  said. 

The  country  points  to  God,  I  said, 

The  golden  wheat  to  make  my  bread, 

The  garden  vegetables  all 

That  grow  so  straight  and  fresh  and  tall, 

And  even  trees  whose  life  is  dead 

Point  Godward  toward  the  blue,  I  said. 

The  city  Godward  points,  I  say 
As  now,  as  comes  the  close  of  day 
I  watch  from  my  back  window  small 
The  sky-line  and  the  steeples  tall, 
And  everywhere  I  look  I  say: 
The  city  Godward  looks  to  pray. 

The  city  Godward  points,  I  say, 
The  fountains  in  the  park  that  play, 
The  ribs  of  steel  on  buildings  tall, 
The  stately  bridges  one  and  all 
With  girders  heavenward  pointed  say : 
The  city  looks  to  God  to-day. 


Seeing  Through 


I  thank  my  God  there  is  no  place 

In  city,  country,  but  by  grace 

I  may  discern  the  up-incline 

Of  trees  and  steeples,  flower  and  vine 

And  kneeling  thank  God  as  I  say: 

The  round  world  Godward  points  to-day. 


Seeing  Through 


MOFFATT  TRANSLATION  OF 
2  COR.  5:1 

"And  if  this  earthly  tent  be  taken  down,  I 
get  a  home  from  God,  a  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

I  know  that  if  this  tent  is  taken  down 
I  get  a  home  from  God,  not  made  with  hands ; 
That  when  my  tent-top  to  the  winds  is  borne 
I  get  a  house  that  stands, — eternal  stands. 

My  tent  to-night  is  blown,  the  door-flap  flies, 
The  cold  winds  whistle  through  the  open  door, 
I  lift  my  eyes — "My  God  I  want  a  home, 
I  want  a  house  with  Thee  forevermore." 


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Seeing  Through 


CHILDREN'S  SPRING  SONG 
Dedicated  to  Jamie,  Mary  and  Janet  Alison 

Maple  buds  are  opening, 
Early  robins  sing, 
Grass  grows  green  and  tender 
For  it's  coming  Spring. 
Orioles  are  nesting, 
Crocus  open  wide, 
Brightly  colored  tulips 
Dot  the  country-side. 

CHORUS 

Sing,  Oh  happy  children, 
Join  the  brook's  glad  songs, 
Praise  the  God  of  Spring-time 
To  whom  praise  belongs. 

Winter's  past  and  over, 
Gone  the  frost  and  snow, 
Happy  April  showers 
Make  the  posies  grow. 
Sing,  oh  happy  children, 
Sing  and  laugh  and  shout, 
In  the  far  green  meadows 
Dandelions  are  out. 


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Seeing  Through 


CHORUS 

Pussies  on  the  willows, 
Nests  within  the  trees, 
Sweetest  scent  of  clover 
On  the  Spring-time  breeze. 
Cocoons  bursted  open 
Butterflies  a'wing, 
Join  the  woodland  chorus, 
Sing,  ye  children,  sing. 


Seeing  Through 


JOY 

Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 
Goes  as  deep  as  middle  ocean, 
Can't  be  measured,  I've  a  notion, 

Soars  so  high  on  swiftest  wing, — 
Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing ! 

Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 

Spreads  abroad  the  whole  world  reaching 

With  it's  doxologic  teaching, 

Starting  folks  to  hum  or  sing, 
Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 

Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 

Often  starts  the  tear-drops  falling, 

Happy  memories  recalling, 

Longs  an  echo  forth  to  bring, — 
Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 

Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 

Growing  larger  as  we  share  it, 

Fast  retreating  if  we  spare  it, 

Longing  for  its  shoots  to  spring, 
Joy's  the  queerest  sort  of  thing! 


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Seeing  Through 


MY  MEMORY  BOX 

I've  got  a  hole  in  my  mem'ry  box 

Where  some  things  go  slipping  through ; 

Things  that  were  mean  and  cruel  and  harsh, 
Hasty,  unkind  and  untrue. 

I've  got  a  hole  in  my  mem'ry  box 

For  words  that  burned  through  and  through, 
For  scornful  looks  and  up-tilted  chin, — 

Words  hypocritical  too. 

I  find  that  hole,  oh,  so  wondrous  wise ! 

I  tell  you  what  it  will  do ; 

It  saves  all  the  sweet  and  gracious  words, 
And  deeds  that  are  kind  and  true! 

It  stores  them  away  for  the  longest  day, — 

Some  friendship  memories  true; 
A  letter,  a  rose,  a  violet, — 

These  never  go  slipping  through. 

A  sunny  path  on  a  golden  day, 

A  pillow  soft  when  one's  ill, 
A  sunset  hour  with  a  friend  beloved, — 

Come  trooping  back  at  my  will. 

So  get  you  also  a  mem'ry  box 

Slit  so  it  shall  keep  alway 
The  things  that  should  never  be  forgot, — 

The  bad  things  let  slip  away. 
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THE  SENSES 

Thank  God  for  sight, — 

And  now  I  do  not  mean 

That  sight  just  physical, — 
(Though  for  that  too  I  daily  thank  my  God) 

But  for  that  sight 

That  glimpses  through  the  seen 
And  catches  at  the  spirit-mystical 
For  that  great  gift  I  daily  thank  my  God. 

Thank  God  for  sound, — 

For  song  of  every  bird, 

For  whispers  of  the  wind — 
I  worship  and  adore  the  God  who  gives 

The  sense  of  sound. 

Memories  of  voices  kind, 

Church  bells'  soft  chime  that  falls  upon  the  wind, 
For  this  great  gift  I  daily  thank  my  God. 

Thank  God  for  taste, 

For  water's  cooling  draught, 

Ambrosia  to  our  lips. 
For  berries  ripened  'neath  the  summer  sun, 

For  tastes  that  call 

Our  thoughts  to  southland  ships 
Laden  with  fruits  that,  ripening  one  by  one, 
Suggest  God's  touch  when  growth  was  just  begun. 


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Thank  God  for  smell, — 

For  brown  earth  after  rain, 

For  perfume  God  has  made, — 
For  odor  of  the  earth  when  storms  are  past, 

Roses'  soft  breath, 

For  lilacs'  sweet  perfume, 
For  tang  of  briny  ocean's  whitest  foam, 
For  lavender  in  linen  chests  at  home. 

Thank  God  for  touch, — 

By  which  I  may  convey 

Deepest  emotions  known ; 
For  mother's  soft  caress  in  childhood's  day, 

For  lover's  touch, 

For  tiny  hands  that  play 
Upon  our  wrinkled  brows  and  brush  our  frowns 

away, 
For  soothing  hands  that  nurse  us  in  a  pain-filled  day. 


Seeing  Through 


A  FRIEND 

I  have  a  Friend  for  sunny  days 
Who  makes  the  sunshine  brighter, 
A  Friend  who  shares  the  gladsome  rays 
I  have  a  Friend  for  sunny  days. 

I  have  a  Friend  for  darker  hours 
When  shadows  gather  o'er  me, 
When  withering  are  the  grass  and  flowers, 
I  have  a  Friend  for  darker  hours. 

I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  stress 
That  bow  the  shoulders,  gray  the  hair, 
For  hours  of  urgent  strenuousness, 
I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  stress. 

I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  rest, 
For  happy  hours  beneath  the  trees, 
For  comradeship  in  pleasure's  quest, 
I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  rest. 

I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  skill, 
When  mind  is  keen  and  hand  is  ready, 
When  I  can  wield  a  flowing  quill, 
I  have  a  Friend  for  hours  of  skill. 

In  short,  a  Friend  for  any  time, 
For  any  sort  of  circumstance, 
For  any  and  for  every  clime, 
My  Friends  are  One;  The  Friend  Divine. 
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POST-OPERATIVE 

I  passed  down  into  the  valley 
With  the  God  of  my  soul  alone; 

And  I  heard  earth's  voices  dimming, 
And  their  accents  fainter  grown. 

I  passed  down  into  the  valley, 

And  the  God  of  my  soul  was  there; 

So  what  cared  I,  if  the  voices  by 
Had  vanished  in  thinnest  air ! 

I  passed  down  into  the  valley, 
And  pain,  with  its  visage  grim, 

Was  waiting  and  watching  my  coming— 
I  cared  not  because  of  Him. 

I  came  up  out  of  the  valley, 
The  sunshine  was  filtering  thru 

The  blinds  of  my  southern  window; 
And  here  He  was  waiting,  too. 

I  came  up  out  of  the  valley, 
To  agony  words  cannot  tell ; 

He  stayed  all  day  at  my  bedside, 
And  was  there  when  darkness  fell. 

Oh  Christ,  of  the  dead  and  living, 
Of  the  well  and  the  very  ill, 

I  thank  Thee  now  for  Thy  presence, 
My  God  who  is  with  me  still. 
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A  HOSPITAL  DOXOLOGY 

I'm  thankful,  Lord,  for  pillows,  that  are  soft  and 

snowy  white, 
For    clean,    pure   air    that   streams    through    open 

windows  to  the  light; 
For  water,  clear  as  crystal,  that  from  out  God's  own 

wells  spring, 
For  linen  that  is  sweet  and  white  as  snow-flakes  on 

the  wing. 

I'm   thankful  too    for  food   prepared  with   loving 

hands  and  skill, 
To  tempt  a  fitful  appetite  when  one  has  long  been 

ill; 

I'm  thankful  for  the  blankets  warm  that  o'er  my  soft 

bed  lay, 
For  light  in  times  of  darkness  and  for  shutters  closed 

by  day. 

I'm  thankful  for  the  doctor  who  with  patience  and 

with  skill 
And  Christ-like,  fine  compassion  comes  to  mitigate 

my  ill; 
I'm  thankful  for  the  window-man  who  keeps  my 

windows  clean, 
And  lets  me  glimpse  God's  out-of-doors  I  erstwhile 

had  not  seen. 


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I'm  thankful  for  the  nurses  and  their  ministrations 

sweet, 
For  endless,  helpful  errands  run  by  eager,  willing 

feet; 

In  short,  I  am  so  thankful  for  so  many  sorts  of  things 
That  my  heart  just  bounds  with  gladness  and  lifts 

its  voice  and  sings. 


Seeing  Through 


MY  DOCTOR 

If  my  doctor  were  to  ask  me  for  a  nick-name, 
Which,  by  the  way,  he  wouldn't  think  to  do,— 
I'd  have  one  ready  for  him  in  a  minute, 
And  since  I  can't  tell  him,  I'm  telling  you: 

I'd  call  him  Dr.  Inasmuch, — for  hear  me, 
He  never  comes  to  help  but  I  can  see 
He's  doing  it  upon  the  old  foundation : 
"As  ye  do  it  unto  her,  ye  do  to  Me." 

I'd  call  him  Dr.  Inasmuch,  well  knowing 
The  motive  back  of  every  deed  that  lies, 
The  selfless,  Christian  skill  all  dedicated 
To  meet  my  need  from  out  his  rich  supplies. 

I'd  call  him  Dr.  Inasmuch, — God  bless  him!— 
And  help  him,  always,  everywhere  to  be, 
To  each  one  who  receives  his  ministrations, 
A  suggestion  of  the  Christ,  as  he's  to  me. 


Seeing  Through 


IN  A  HOSPITAL 

They  did  me  up  in  a  "nightie"  white, 
And  on  my  head  tied  a  white  cap  tight, 
Then  they  punched  a  needle  in  my  arm 
And  I  felt  sleepy  and  "comfy"  and  warm. 

Then  they  put  me  in  a  big  wheel  chair 

And  took  me  up  two  flights  of  stairs, 

Then  they  painted  my  tongue  and  painted  some  more 

Till  I  couldn't  tell  if  'twere  well  or  sore. 

Then  the  doctor  came  with  his  wondrous  skill 
And  said  he  knew  I  would  lie  quite  still; 
Then  he  jabbed  his  needle,  Oh,  so  deep, 
And  you  couldn't  talk  and  you  couldn't  weep. 

But  somehow  you  knew  that  the  Surgeon  on  High 
Was  guiding  the  hand  that  was  right  close  by, 
So  you  simply  quivered  and  then  lay  still, 
And  gave  yourself  up  to  His  own  best  skill. 

Now  that's  the  story  in  words  but  few, 
And  part  of  it's  old  and  part  of  it's  new; 
But  I  have  proved  it  and  found  it  true 
And  pass  the  message  on  to  you. 

If  ever  you  go  on  the  "table"  too 
To  face  an  experience  all  quite  new, 
Know  this :  it  is  easy — to  live  or  die — 
When  the  Master-Surgeon  stands  hard  by. 
86 


Seeing  Through 


And  when  they  trundle  you  back  to  bed 
With  a  lightish  feeling  in  your  head, 
And  you  can't  make  out  where  you  are  or  why, 
And  the  pain  is  hard  and  you  want  to  cry. 

Why  know, — 'cause  I've  been  there  and  found  it 

true 

The  Master  Surgeon'll  come  close  to  you, 
Then  quietly  sleep  or  simply  rest 
Secure  in  His  love  who  loves  you  best. 


Seeing  Through 


WEST  WINDOWS 

They  gave  me  a  room  with  a  western  view, 

And  no  more  the  rising  sun 
May  greet  me  at  dawn  with  its  cheery  ray 

And  tell  of  a  day  begun. 

They  gave  me  a  room  with  a  western  view, 

And  I  knew  some  sweet  surprise 
Would  come  if  I  only  would  watch  and  wait 

The  light  of  the  western  skies. 

And  now,  oh,  to-night,  has  the  veil  been  riven,- 
I  have  watched  the  western  view  ; 

The  roseate  glow  at  the  end  of  the  day, — 
Fine  crimson  against  steel  blue. 

I've  seen  the  sun  touch  with  one  long,  last  ray 

The  roofs  of  the  little  town, 
And  kiss  with  the  tenderest  mother-kiss 

The  top  of  the  bare  trees  brown. 

They  gave  me  a  room  with  a  western  view. 

I  wonder  if  they  half  guessed 
I  should  learn  anew  from  my  sunset  view 

That  God  sends  the  last  His  best. 


88 


Seeing  Through 


The  best  of  God's  wine  He  shall  save  till  last, 
Like  the  colors  of  evening  glow; 

And  glories  to  be  shall  outshine  what's  past 
As  onward  in  life  we  go. 

I've  missed  the  warmth  of  the  sunrise  beams, 

But  I'm  thankful  to  God  anew 
For  lessons  I've  learned  as  the  sun  went  down, 

From  the  room  with  the  western  view. 


Seeing  Through 


FRIENDS 

Friends  are  like  cathedral  windows 
Where  the  sunshine,  filtering  through 

Lends  so  many,  many  colors 

And  so  many  a  wondrous  hue; 

But  the  sunshine  is  the  same 

In  its  golden  glory-flame. 

Friends  are  like  cathedral  windows, 

Blue  of  loyal  purpose  true, 
Gold  of  spirits  filled  with  gladness, 

Red,  the  sacrificial  hue, 
Green,  rich  pasture  shades  suggest, 
Lulling  tired  hearts  to  rest. 

Friends  are  like  cathedral  windows 
Where  the  royal  purple  tones 

Yield  a  sympathetic  silence 
And  a  common  sorrow  owns; 

While  a  samite  gleam  of  white 

Lifts  our  God  before  our  sight. 

Friends  are  like  a  pile  of  music, 

Music  in  a  major  strain, 
Music  with  a  minor  cadence 

Brimming  o'er  with  stress  of  pain ; 
Some  a  lullaby  sing  low, 
Others  forth  to  battle  go. 


Seeing  Through 


Friends  are  like  a  pile  of  music; 

Some  fortissimo  is  played, 
Some  is  low,  like  vesper  chiming, 

Some  is  dignified  and  staid. 
Some,  sweet  melodies  sing  low, 
Some,  rich  chords  break  soft  and  slow. 

Friends  are  like  a  pile  of  music ; 

Lilting  waltz-time,  children's  songs, 
Rousing  march-time, — feet  go  tramping,- 

Some  to  sunset-time  belongs; 
Oh,  the  harmony  that  springs 
From  our  hearts  as  each  one  sings! 

Friends  are  like  a  wondrous  garden 
Shaded  'round  by  many  trees; 

Lofty  hemlock  pointing  skyward, 
Aspen,  shaken  by  the  breeze, 

Silver  maple,  spirit  dressed 

Where  the  moonbeams  love  to  rest. 

Friends  are  like  a  wondrous  garden ; 

Fir-trees  green  the  whole  year  through, 
Make  a  home  for  winter  sparrows 

One  green  tree  against  the  blue. 
Oak  tree  strength  keeps  guard  o'er  all, 
Tiny  flower  and  tree-top  tall. 


Seeing  Through 


Friends  are  like  a  wondrous  garden 
Where  the  white,  white  lilies  glow, 

Where  the  many-colored  pansies 
Nodding  in  the  sunshine  grow, 

Where  the  lilacs, — purple,  white, 

Breathe  their  fragrance  day  and  night. 

Friends  are  like  a  wondrous  garden 
Where  the  rambler-roses  climb, 

Where  the  lily-of-the-valley 

Lifts  our  thoughts  from  sense  and  time ; 

Where  the  blue-bells  chime  their  lay 

Praising  God  for  each  new  day. 

Friends  are  like  a  wondrous  garden 
Where  the  phlox  abundant  grows, 

Where  the  sweet-peas'  gentle  perfume 
Mingles  with  the  scent  of  rose, 

Where  the  morning-glories  nod 

In  the  afternoon  of  God. 

Friends  are  like — alas,  words  fail  me. 

Best  analogies  are  dim; 
Colored  windows,  music,  flowers, 

Friends  are  those  who  suggest  Him ; 
Him  who  came  our  Friend  to  be 
Now  and  through  Eternity. 


Seeing   Through 


TO  KEEP  FROM  GROWING  OLD 

I  want  to  borrow  baby 
For  a  little,  little  while; 
I  need  a  baby's  prattle 
And  I  need  a  baby's  smile. 

I  want  to  run  my  fingers 
Through  curls  of  sunny  gold, 
To  feel  his  hands  soft  patting 
Across  my  wrinkles  old. 

I  do  not  want  your  money, 
Your  house  nor  weight  of  gold, 
I  want  to  borrow  baby 
To  keep  from  growing  old ! 


93 


Seeing  Through 


A  GARDEN  INTERROGATOR 

Why  do  potatoes  have  eyes, 
And  what  do  you  think  that  they  see? 

And  why  has  lettuce  a  heart? 
Please,  Mother,  come  'splain  it  to  me! 

Why  is  it  corn  grows  on  ears, 
Does  it  hear  the  wind  'mid  the  stalks? 

Does  a  vegetable  grow  with  a  tongue, 
And  what  is  the  language  it  talks  ? 

Tell  me  why  posies  have  lips, 
Do  they  kiss  each  other  Good-night? 
Do  flowers  called  fingers  play  "pigs" 

As  we  do  when  fast  fades  the  light  ? 

****** 

I'm  sleepy  as  sleepy  can  be, 
Please,  Mother  dear,  'splain  it  to  me! 


94 


Seeing  Through 


GOD  AND  GARDENS 

I'm  glad  when  God  first  made  the  world, 

He  made  a  garden  space, 
And  in  that  garden  walked  and  talked 

With  Adam  face  to  face. 

And  now,  though  years  have  passed  away, 

Again  I  find  God  walks 
In  earth's  sweet  gardens  here  and  there, 

Meets  with  His  own  and  talks. 

Along  the  flags  sweet  purple  bed 

Where  runs  a  narrow  way 
He  walks  with  me  at  sunset  hours 

The  sweetest  of  the  day. 

And  where  ascension  lilies  lift 

Their  spirit-faces  white 
He  tells  me  wondrous  secrets  in 

The  silences  of  night. 

Oh,  God  who  walks  in  gardens  still, 
Grant  me  Thy  voice  to  know 

Thy  footstep  on  my  garden  walk, 
Thyself  where  flowers  grow. 

Ded.  to  F.  E.  M. 


95 


Seeing   Through 


ODE  TO  WRITING  MATERIALS 
(Written  while  on  a  rest  cure) 

Shut  me  up,  if  you  like 

Take  my  sewing  away 

Tell  me  just,  just  to  rest 

Rest  and  sleep  and  play 
I'll  do  anything  the  doctors  say 
If  they'll  let  me  have  pencil  and  paper. 

Now,  you  see,  it's  like  this, 

If  I  lie  here  and  rest 

Why,  my  mind  runs  away 

On  some  eager  quest 
And  what  it  finds  it  brings  to  my  nest 
And  to  keep  it,  I  need  ink  and  paper. 

So  now  please,  doctor  man 

Let  me  sharpen  them  all 

I  will  lie  here  and  rest 

And  I  wont  have  a  call 
You  surely  can't  want  me  to  memorize  all, 
It's  easier  to  put  it  on  paper. 


Seeing   Through 


HOWARD  ARNOLD  WALTER 

They  told  me  there  was  a  notice 
That  one  whom  I  loved  was  dead, 

But  I  contradicted  flatly, 
"It  cannot  be  true,"  I  said. 

Why,  hadn't  I  had  a  message 
Just  a  few  short  days  before 

Plain  in  the  old  hand-writing 
I  had  known  in  days  of  yore? 

But  then,  as  I  read  the  notice 
I  sensed  what  it  said  was  so; 

The  summons  had  come  quite  swiftly 
And,  of  course,  he'd  want  to  go. 

I  smiled.     I  had  contradicted, 

I  had  said  it  wasn't  true ; 
I  was  right  for  death  hadn't  called  him 

But  life  into  pathways  new. 

I  know  that  in  fields  far  broader 
He  works  as  he  worked  of  old, 

But  there  he  grows  never  weary 
Nor  worn  with  the  heat  or  cold. 


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Seeing  Through 


I  know  that  his  love  is  deeper 
Than  here  on  this  earth  below, 

For  Him,  and  for  those  who  linger 
Till  they  too  his  pathway  go. 

I  know  right  well  he's  not  dead,  nay, 
But  what  I  have  said  is  true; 

So  I  glory  to  know  him  living 
And  loving  and  serving  too. 


Seeing  Through 


ACCIDENTALS 
Dedicated  to  O.  F. 

On  the  music  stand  before  me 

Is  a  score  that's  writ  with  care, 
And  I  study  style  and  tempo 

And  find  "accidentals"  there. 
"Accidentals"  which  contribute 

To  the  majesty  of  sound, 
To  the  sweeping,  vibrant  message 

In  the  sweet  sonata  found. 

On  the  score  of  life  before  me 

Written  by  divinest  grace, 
I  find  "accidentals"  written 

Here  and  there  in  many  a  place; 
And  I  play  them  and  I  sing  them 

Sure  the  Great  Composer  knew 
When  He  placed  them  on  my  score  sheet 

They  would  make  life's  music  true. 


99 


Seeing   Through 


TO  L.  T.  A. 

I  cannot  write  you  a  letter, 
For  I  don't  know  where  you  are, 
I  don't  know  where  to  address  you 
Since  you've  travelled  to  lands  afar, 
So  I'm  praying  instead  of  writing: 
"God  bless  her" — wherever  you  are. 

I  cannot  write  you  a  letter 

So  I'm  asking  the  Lord  to  say 

The  words  that  shall  comfort  and  strengthen 

And  help  you  upon  your  way, 

And  words  I  would  like  to  utter, 

I'm  asking  the  Lord  to  say. 

I  cannot  write  you  a  letter, 

But  I  know  that  the  Lord  will  hear, 

And  Himself  will  bring  a  message 

Of  comfort  and  help  and  cheer, 

And  I'm  glad  you  shall  get  a  message 

Straight  out  of  heaven,  dear. 


Seeing   Through 


ON  A  CALENDAR  PAD 

Again  'tis  the  end  of  another  year, 
A  line  through  the  last  day  is  run; 

My  calendar  pad  is  useless  to  me, 
The  New  Year  has  just  now  begun. 

But  ere  in  the  basket  I  throw  it 
I  turn  o'er  its  leaves  once  again ; 

Each  week  and  each  month  I  pass  over, 
Each  day  with  its  joy  and  its  pain. 

And  over  the  year  just  departed 

I  write  with  a  stroke  strong  and  bold : 

"God's  mercies  fresh  morning  and  evening, — 
Ah,  the  half,  not  the  half  hath  been  told." 

That  day  when  the  road  was  full  lonely 

And  He  was  especially  near, 
About  me,  beside  me,  within  me, 

The  long,  lonely  way  for  to  cheer. 

That  day  when  the  Tempter  would  flay  me 
By  planting  a  doubt  in  my  heart ; 

And  Christ  with  His  kind  hand  was  near  me, 
And  faith  came  to  vanquish  the  dart. 

That  day  when  the  storm  broke  in  fury, 
And  tempest  and  wind  rent  the  sky, 

When  lo !  in  the  midst  of  the  raging 
Was  peace  that  the  world  cannot  buy. 
101 


Seeing  Through 


The  hours  when  pain  held  me  a  prisoner, 
When  sleep  and  its  balm  was  denied, 

When  Christ  as  the  Healer  and  Helper 
Was  close,  oh  so  close,  to  my  side. 

"Thou  crownest  the  year  with  Thy  goodness"- 

The  calendar  pages  but  prove 
The  wonder  of  wonders,  I  reckon, 

The  sweetness  and  strength  of  His  love. 

My  calendar  pad,  I  shall  keep  you, 
Shall  keep  you  and  fold  you  away; 

Not  useless  since  you  are  a  token 
Of  God's  loving  care  all  the  way. 

And  if  any  ask  why  I  keep  you, 

When  yellow  and  wrinkled  and  old, 

I  shall  say:  "This  is  just  a  wee  token 
That  the  half,  not  the  half,  hath  been  told. 

Not  the  half  of  God's  pardon  and  power, 
Not  half  of  His  peace  and  His  grace, 

Not  half  of  His  love  and  His  mercy, 
Nor  how  wondrously  these  interlace. 

Not  half  of  His  joy  and  His  sweetness, — 

The  story  is  new  and  is  old, — 
His  mercies  fresh  morning  and  evening, 

Not  half,  not  one  half  hath  been  told." 


102 


Seeing  Through 


WHEN  JESUS  WAS  DEAD 

I 

"There  came  Joseph  of  Arimathea," 

— But  Jesus  was  dead — 
He  came  offering  a  tomb  in  his  garden, 

'Twere  better  instead 
He  had  taken  a  stand  at  His  trial 

— Now — Jesus  was  dead. 

II 
Then  there  also  came  old  Nicodemus, 

— But  Jesus  was  dead — 
He'd  brought  gifts  both  of  myrrh  and  of  aloes 

'Twere  better  instead 
He  had  listened  that  night  on  the  house-top, 

By  Jesus  been  led. 

Ill 

Poor  Joseph  and  old  Nicodemus! 

When  Jesus  was  dead 
Gave  the  best  that  they  had  for  His  burial! — 

'Twere  better  instead 
They  had  followed  as  open  disciples 

E'er  Jesus  was  dead! 


103 


Seeing   Through 


"THE  GLORIOUS  ADVENTURE" 

In  memory  of  H.  A.  W.  who  loved  to  call  Death 
"The  Glorious  Adventure." 

"The  glorious  adventure," 

He  always  called  it  so; 
So  why  should  we  who  linger 

Be  burdened  down  with  woe? 

He's  Gone, — a  great  crusader, 

His  armor,  snowy  white ; 
His  goal,  the  golden  city 

All  set  with  jasper  light. 

The  King  to  whom  he  journeys 

His  mansion  has  prepared 
Within  the  golden  city, 

His  purpose  has  declared. 

And  he,— "he  shall  be  like  Him," 
The  One  whom  he  adored, 

Shall  sit  down  at  His  table, 
Shall  join  His  festal  board. 

Oh  glorious  adventure! 

We  lift  our  eager  eyes 
As  they  of  old  on  Hermon 

Gazed  toward  the  glory-skies. 


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Seeing   Through 


And  pray  that  as  crusaders 
We  forth  anew  may  fare, 

Until  the  Great  Adventure 
Finds  us  too  over  there. 


A  PSALM  OF  THANKS 

I  thank  Thee,  God,  for  all  the  way  of  pain 
That  I  have  trod,  that  oft  my  path  has  lain 
'Tween  troubles  mountains  high  or  fathoms  deep, 
On  deserts  hot  and  dry  or  rough  and  steep. 

I  thank  Thee,  God,  that  on  the  saddened  way 
Thy  comfort  is  sufficient  strength  and  stay, 
And  with  the  comfort  Thou  thyself  dost  give 
I  may  another  traveller  help  to  live. 

That  there's  no  darksome  way  for  Thou  art  Light, 
And  not  a  devious  way  but  Thou  art  Right, 
And  not  one  steep  ascent,  but  with  Thy  rod 
I  may  ascend  unto  Thy  hills,  O,  God. 


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Seeing  Through 


H.  A.  W. 

So  you  have  gone,  gone  where  no  eye  of  mortal 
May  see  your  face,  nor  catch  your  sunny  smile  ; 

For  you  have  swung  the  doors  of  this  life's  portal 
And  we  must  walk  without  you  for  awhile. 

So  you  have  gone,  gone  where  no  ear  of  mortal 
May  catch  the  cadence  of  your  clear,  sweet  voice  ; 

For  you  have  swung  the  doors  of  this  life's  portal 
And  we  who  miss  you  most  must  most  rejoice. 

Your  eyes  now  see  the  City  all  celestial, 

Your  eyes  have  looked  already  on  the  King ! 

We  would  not  hold  you  to  the  sights  terrestrial 
Nor  would  begrudge  you  what  its  glories  bring. 

Your  ears,  noise-worn,  hear  now  the  heavenly  music 
In  praise  antiphonal  and  sweet  and  strong; 

Down  here  on  earth  we  catch  its  echo  stealing, — 
Music  poured  forth  from  the  redeemed  throng. 

So  I  rejoice, — rejoice  to  know  you  waiting 
To  catch  our  foot-fall  on  the  roads  of  time  ; 

We  too  shall  wait  till  fade  earth's  transient  glories 
Till  He  shall  call  us  too  to  joys  sublime. 


Seeing  Through 


TRUST 

In  ways  thou  knowest  not, 
By  paths  thou  choosest  not, 

Thy  God  shall  lead. 
Through  days  when  shines  the  sun, 
Through  nights  where  dark  clouds  run, 

Supply  thy  need. 

Because  thou  knowest  not, 
Because  thou  choosest  not, 

Have  thou  no  fear. 
He  knoweth  better  far, 
His  choices  wisest  are, 

And  He  is  near. 

In  ways  thou  knewest  not, 
By  paths  thou  chosest  not, 

Thou  shalt  arrive. 
God's  promises  are  sure, 
His  words  for  aye  endure, 

Cease,  then,  to  strive. 

Trust  thou,  my  heart,  and  rest, 
Thy  Father  knoweth  best, 

And  thou  shalt  sing 
To  God  who  knoweth  all, 
To  God  who  chooseth  all, 

Thy  God  and  King. 


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Seeing   Through 


GOD'S  PAINT  BOX 

God  has  opened  up  His  paint-box, 
And  has  mixed  the  spring-time  shades, 
Touching  up  the  brown  earth  dreary, 
Hill  and  mountains,  woodland  glades. 

There  is  yellow  on  the  palette, 
Like  to  sunbeams  wafted  down, 
There  is  lilac,  pale  and  purple 
That  shall  lighten  up  the  brown. 

There  is  pink  of  orchard  blossom, 
Faint,  then  deepening  to  rose; 
There  is  blue  of  spring-time  vi'let 
That  in  modest  beauty  grows. 

God  has  opened  up  His  paint  box, 
Winter  shadows  take  their  flight, 
From  God's  palette  there  come  dripping 
Spring  time  colors  warm  and  bright. 


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Seeing  Through 


NOT  ALONE 

To  walk  along  an  unknown  way, 
And  have  beside  thee  every  day 
A  dear  Companion,  One  who  knows 
Each  winding  way  the  pathway  goes : 
This  is  true  living,  thus  to  be 
Walking  with  God  and  God  with  thee. 

And  if  sometimes  the  way  is  rough, 
This  Friend  of  thine  is  close  enough 
To  help  thee  trudge  on  to  the  end 
And  light  to  the  dark  roadway  lend : 
And  thou  a  stranger  grow  to  fear, 
With  this  thy  dear  Companion  near. 

And  if  the  road  is  also  steep, 

If  boulders  hide  'neath  roses  sweet, 

Safely  He'll  guide  the  whole  way  through, 

Show  thee  the  dangers  old  and  new : 

Ah,  this  is  living  thus  to  go 

Safe  mid  the  snares  that  'round  thee  grow. 


109 


Seeing   Through 


And  when  at  length  the  path  grows  dim, 

And  soft  we  hear  the  vesper  hymn, 

At  the  long  road's  end  a  welcome  waits 

For  the  Friend-Companion  keeps  the  gates, 

And  like  Enoch  of  old  at  set  of  sun, 

We're  at  home  with  God  when  life's  day  is  done 

And  in  realms  of  bliss  a  roadway  new 

Will  stretch  before  our  wondering  view, 

And  evermore  in  that  happy  land 

We  shall  walk  with  the  King,  a  rejoicing  band, 

And  sing  in  a  wondrous  song  and  new : 

"Bless  God,  My  God,  who  has  guided  through." 


no 


Seeing  Through 


DECLARATION  AND  REQUEST 

I'm  not  afraid. 
The  craven  fear  of  years 
Somehow  has  melted  been  by  summer  tears. 
God  help  me  as  I  really  face  the  fight 
To  stand  erect,  nor  seek  a  coward's  flight. 

I'm  not  afraid. 
The  tremor  of  my  heart 
Is  just  the  physical,  the  past  a  part 
Left  of  the  long-time  strain,  a  dart. 
God  help  me  as  I  firmly  stand  for  right, 
Not  simply,  Lord,  to  win,  but  help  me  fight. 


ill 


Seeing  Through 


REFLECTION 

As  lakes  reflect  each  shade  of  heaven's  blue, 
And  mirror  back  a  like  sapphiric  hue ; 
So  may  I  show  the  world  Thy  wondrous  grace, 
And  mirror  back  the  glory  of  Thy  face. 


112 


Seeing  Through 


"WIN  CHRIST" 
Phil.  3:8 

"Win  Christ!"   Say,  what  a  call; 
We  well  may  guess  the  Apostle  Paul 
Spoke  these  words  as  a  captain  might 
Sending  his  soldiers  forth  to  fight: 
"Win  Christ!" 

"Win  Christ!"   What  must  I  lose? 
One  is  your  master,  you  must  choose. 
You  may  not  walk  two  masters'  ways 
Nor  give  two  masters  equal  praise. 
"Win  Christ!" 

"Win  Christ!"  for  Christ  alone, 
He  shall  for  all  things  missed  atone; 
Center,  circumference,  start  and  end, 
Saviour,  Redeemer,  Guide  and  Friend. 
"Win  Christ!" 

Won-Christ !   This  at  the  last, 
When  battles'  smoke  is  overpast, 
When  at  length  we  shall  like  Him  be, 
Won  for  time  and  eternity, 
Won-Christ! 


Seeing  Through 


"HE  SHALL  COME  DOWN  LIKE  RAIN" 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain;" — 

I  watched  this  afternoon 
To  see  how  He  shall  come, — 

I  watched  a  shower  in  June. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain;" — 

And  a  refreshing  breeze 
Blew  soft  my  sick-room  through 

And  brought  me  cooling  ease. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain;" — 
And  dust  and  grime  fled  fast. 

The  perfume  of  the  flowers 
Crept  through  my  room  at  last. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain." — 

I  saw  small  children  dip 
Their  feet  in  puddles  deep. 

Oh,  the  sheer  joy  of  it! 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain." — 

Birds  mute  for  many  days 
In  draught  and  blist'ring  heat 

Broke  into  notes  of  praise. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain," — 

Refreshing,  cooling  all; 
And  dust  and  grime  slip  by 

In  answer  to  His  call. 
114 


Seeing  Through 


"He  shall  come  down  like  rain;" — 
Flowers  shall  in  perfume  praise ; 

Children  with  laughter  gay 
Contribute  roundelays. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain;" — 
Mute  birds  again  shall  sing; 

Full  are  their  little  throats, 
Gladsome  the  songs  they  bring. 

"He  shall  come  down  like  rain." — 

All  shall  be  perfect  then. 
The  earth  hath  waited  long; 

Come,  Lord,  oh  come  again! 


Seeing  Through 


LOVE  IN  THE  MORNING 
Dedicated  to  C.  A.  B.  and  G.  G.  W. 

When  life  comes,  dear,  in  the  morning, 
When  life  is  blithe  and  gay, 
It  brightens  the  earliest  dawning, 
With  its  bright  and  its  glowing  ray. 
It  wakens  the  morning  glories, 
Makes  diamonds,  dear,  of  the  dew ; 
When  love  comes,  dear,  in  the  morning, 
It  does  all  this  for  you. 

When  love,  dear,  tarries  at  even, 
When  deepening  shadows  creep, 
And  posies  awake  in  the  sunshine 
Fold  gently  their  petals  in  sleep, 
It  makes  all  the  west  seem  glorious, 
No  fear  of  the  coming  night, 
When  love,  dear,  tarries  at  evening 
Then  evening  time  is  light. 


116 


Seeing  Through 


THE  HAMPTON  QUARTETTE 

I  heard  four  Negro  minstrels  sing 
A  song  of  heaven  and  home; 

I  heard  their  mellow  voices  ring 

For  us  who  sat  a'banqueting 

And  bid  the  listeners:    "Come." 

I  heard  four  Negro  minstrels  tell 

About  a  robe  so  white; 
I  heard  about  a  song  that  fell 
From  clear,  sweet  voices  loved  so  well 

Around  the  throne  of  light. 

I  heard  four  Negro  minstrels  lift 

Their  voices  as  they  told 
Of  shoes  whose  owner's  feet  were  swift, 
That  nevermore  shall  swerve  nor  drift — 

Clear  were  their  notes  and  bold. 

I  heard  four  Negro  minstrels  raise 

A  song  about  a  ring; 
I  heard  the  guests  in  notes  of  praise 
"Make  merry"  in  their  gladdest  lays, — 

Wondrous  the  song  they  sing. 

Four  Negro  minstrels  sang  their  lay ; 

Heaven  itself  drew  near; 
Close  were  the  pearly  gates  that  day 
Heaven,  that's  sometimes  far  away 

Sent  forth  a  welcome  clear. 
117 


Seeing  Through 


"THERE  IS  NO  ROOM" 

The  train  was  late;  the  busy  street 
Crowded  with  homeward  going  feet 
Was  growing  dark, — I  too  must  rest, 
And  at  a  desk  made  my  request. 

The  clerk  was  courteous,  sought  awhile 
Then  said  with  a  regretful  smile : 
"There  is  no  room.    Vacation  days 
And  many  stop  here  on  their  ways." 

My  heart  was  stirred  and  with  a  bound 
Sang  praise  to  God  that  I  had  found 
Another  kinship  with  my  Lord 
Whose  mother  heard  that  very  word : 
"There  is  no  room." 

They  telephoned  both  here  and  there 
And  found  a  room  up  three  long  stair, 
Weary  and  worn  I  sought  my  nest, — 
A  mattress  made  of  straw  my  rest. 

Again  I  sang  for  once  He  lay 
For  me  upon  a  bed  of  hay; 
Then  slept  with  happy  heart  that  He 
Should  with  this  kinship  honor  me. 


118 


Seeing  Through 


"A  LAND  NOT  FAR  OFF" 

"Over  the  hills  and  far  away" 
And  sometimes  I  think  't  isn't  far; 

But  "Over  the  hills  and  far  away" 
Is  right  near  where  we  are ! 

I  sometimes  think  my  willing  feet 
Will  cross  the  Great  Divide, 

And  scarcely  understand  it 
Till  they  touch  the  other  side. 

I  sometimes  think  my  fingers 
Shall  touch  things  over  there 

And  someone  need  to  tell  me 
Just  what  they  are,  and  where. 

I  think  my  eyes  shall  open 

After  some  restless  night 
On  splendor  all  unbroken 

And  silver  shining  light. 

I  think  sometimes  my  noise-worn  ears 
Shall  sense  a  sudden  peace, 

And  "Over  the  hills  and  far  away" 
A  bugler  blow:  Release. 

But  every  year  I'm  surer, 

Surer  that  it  is  true, 
That  "Over  the  hills  and  far  away" 

Is  near  to  me — to  you. 
119 


Seeing  Through 


THE  STORM  SONG 

A  storm  was  gathering.    In  the  distant  heavens 
Great,  heavy  clouds  were  hurrying  swiftly  by ; 
Thunder,  whose  peals  made  swift,  incessant  echo, 
Came  from  the  far  away  and  darkened  sky. 

Under  a  tree  with  book  and  pen  I  waited 
'Till  the  first  drops  should  hurry  me  within, 
When  a  wee  bird,  from  out  a  cedar  stately 
Lifted  its  head  and  sang  its  storm-cloud  hymn. 

Reverent  I  listened.    What  then  was  the  message 
This  tiny  bird  had  come  to  bring  to  me, 
Trilling  its  lay  with  tender,  sweet  insistence, 
What  was  the  meaning  of  its  melody? 

"Back  of  the  storm,"  so  trilled  the  bird  above  me. 
"Back  of  the  storm  the  sun  shines  clear  and  bright, 
Great  rainbow  tints  shall  yet  your  heart  enlighten 
And  from  the  darkness  shall  shine  forth  the  light." 

"Rainbows    shone    never,    but    where    storms    had 

lingered, 

Never  its  colors  had  the  storm  not  been ; 
God's  promises  against  a  darkened  background 
Are  ever  truly  and  most  clearly  seen." 

Thanks,  tiny  bird.    I  lift  my  pen  to  write  it 
That  other  souls  may  hear  your  heart'ning  song, 
And  learn  to  wait  in  storm-time  for  the  rainbow 
That  had  not  been  but  for  the  storm  clouds  long. 
120 


Seeing   Through 


DAWN 

Out  of  the  darkness  saw  I  morn  awaking, 

Strange  phantom  things  took  shape  and  I  could  see 

Emerging  from  the  darkness  and  the  shadows, 
Tall  friendly  trees,  the  mountains,  and  the  lea. 

While  overhead  in  optimistic  splendor, 

Shone  out  the  morning  star,  and  seemed  to  say, 

"Darkness  and  night  endure  but  for  a  season, 
Then  cometh  light,  the  dawning  of  the  day." 

Then  over  phantom  things  there  came  a  changing ; — 
Clearly  revealed  I  saw  the  mountain  slope; 

Tall  trees  that  stood  like  ghosts  of  giant  sentries 
Stood  out  in  answer  to  my  dawning  hope. 

A  darksome  shadow  showed  a  chimney  friendly, 
The  awe-some,  huddled  shape  a  home  became ; 

A  snow-white  clover,  growing  'neath  my  window 
Did,  by  its  whiteness,  growing  day  proclaim. 

Soft,  fleecy  clouds  bent  low  above  the  mountain 
Blushing  full  pink,  I  watched  them  as  they  rose, 

Bearing  the  glory  of  the  day's  new  splendor, 
Calling  the  earth  to  wake  from  night's  repose. 

I  looked  above ; — the  morning  star  had  vanished  ; 

Its  prophecy  around  was  proven  true ; 
Darkness  and  night  had  melted  into  distance, 

Leaving  instead  earth's  green  and  heaven's  blue. 
121 


Seeing  Through 


TREES 

O,  trees,  since  God  the  world  began, 

He  set  you  in  the  world  to  grow, 

That  travellers  'neath  your  shade  might  rest 

And  shelter  find  your  arms  below. 

I  love  your  silver  maple  leaves, 
Your  oak  so  sturdy  and  so  strong, 
The  aspen  shaken  by  a  breath, 
The  weeping  willow  with  its  song. 

I  think, — while  near  the  great  logs  burn 
Cut  from  your  heart  for  warmth  and  glow, — 
Of  things  throughout  the  world  you  do, 
As  upward  toward  the  blue  you  grow. 

I  think  of  homes  you've  builded  here, 
The  little  church  with  shingles  gray, 
Of  boats  that  bear  us  out  to  sea, 
And  safe  across  the  wat'ry  way. 

I  think  of  songs  your  heart  has  made 

In  cello  as  I  touch  its  strings, 

In  violin  with  its  yearning  call, 

And  thrill  with  thoughts  your  music  brings. 


122 


Seeing  Through 


I  think  of  Eden  and  the  trees 
"Trees  bearing  fruit"  the  old  Book  says, 
Then  of  the  ark  in  time  of  flood, 
Keeping  men  safe  through  stormy  days. 

Of  Abram's  friends  of  mystic  mien, 
Who  sat  one  day  your  leaves  below, 
Of  one  beneath  the  juniper, 
Wishing  to  end  his  life  of  woe. 

Of  trees  that  built  the  temple  old, 
Of  pomegranates  large  and  small, 
Of  carvings  wrought  with  masters  skill, 
Of  pillars  stately,  smooth  and  tall. 

Long  ages  pass  then  once  again 
The  story  of  the  trees  is  told, 
A  man  high  in  a  sycamore 
Seeks  the  Lord  Jesus  to  behold. 

And  when  the  Son  of  man,  betrayed, 
Delivered  up  by  sinful  men, — 
Waited  that  night  in  Pilate's  court 
The  tree  was  needed  once  again. 

O,  tragedy  of  all  the  years, 
O,  tragedy  most  dark  and  grim 
Upon  the  tree's  out-stretched  arms, 
Upon  a  tree  they  lifted  Him. 


123 


Seeing  Through 


And  when  the  dearly  loved  John, 
Wrote  of  the  things  he  saw  above, 
Of  songs  of  angel  and  of  saint, 
Of  wondrous,  and  unmeasured  love, 

When  he  had  told  about  the  Lamb 
Who  lives  the  city  gates  within, 
When  he  had  told  of  men  redeemed 
Out  of  their  infamy  and  sin, 

When  he,  I  say,  had  writ  these  things 

Writ  for  the  ages  long  to  see, 

He  added  this:    "And  in  the  midst 

And  in  the  midst,  a  tree,  a  tree." 

*       *       *       *       *       * 

Thank  God  for  trees.    This  sorry  world 
Has  found  their  leafy  bowers  sweet, 
And  in  another  world  than  this, 
Again  we  shall  their  beauty  greet. 

And  in  their  shade  none  shall  grow  old, 
And  none  beneath  them  know  strife, 
Their  fruitage  is  for  all  the  earth, 
They  have  become  "The  Tree  of  Life." 


124 


Seeing  Through 


COMPASSED  ABOUT 
Psalms  118:12 — 32:7 

"They  compassed  me  about  like  bees" — 

Wild,  stinging  things; 
Behind  my  back,  before  my  face 

With  swiftest  wings. 

''They  compassed  me  about  like  bees" — 

They  stole  the  sweet, 
They  left  me  drained  and  parched  and  dry 

In  noon-day  heat. 

Fainting — Lo,  Some  One  stands  between 

The  bees  and  me; 
The  drained  cup  is  filled  again, 

My  blind  eyes  see. 

"Thou  compassest  with  songs  about" — 

And  I  shall  sing. 
Songs  of  deliverance  and  help 

Take  vocal  wing. 

With  loving-kindness  hast  Thou,  Lord, 

Encompassed  me. 
Thy  very  Self  hast  shielded  from 

The  stinging  bee. 


Seeing  Through 


"WITH  HIM  IN  GLORY" 

(Col.  3:4) 

"With  Him  in  glory."    I  cannot  refrain, 
But  read  the  words  over  again  and  again; 
And  thrill  just  as  tho'  I  had  not  read  before 
Those  wonderful  words  as  they  sweep  my  heart  o'er. 

"With  Him  in  glory."    Lord,  hasten  the  day 
When  earth's  little  while  shall  pass  ever  away, 
When  shadows  that  darken  shall  take  wings  and  flee, 
And  we  shall  be  "caught  up"  in  glory  with  Thee. 

Then  as  I  revel  to  think  of  that  time 

Another  thought  comes  with  its  message  sublime, — 

"Partakers  of  suff'ring," — why,  that's  "with  Him" 

too, 
And    His   presence   shall   lighten   the   weary   way 

through. 

And  glory  shall  shine  as  His  suff'ring  we  bear, 
As  truly  as  when  we  His  glory  shall  share; 
And  we  may  be  "with  Him"  right  now,  every  day, 
As  truly  as  when  He  shall  take  us  away. 

But  yet  I  can't  help  wishing  He  were  right  here, 
In  bodily  presence,  as  He  shall  appear ; 
So  I  pray:   "Lord,  come  quickly  and  take  us  to  be 
In  glory  forever,  in  glory  with  Thee." 

126 


Seeing  Through 


A  VASE  OF  PINK  ROSES 

Three  pink  roses  on  my  table 
And  they're  saying  things  to  me, 
As  I  watch  their  petals  open 
And  their  hearts  of  gold  can  see. 

Now  the  first  one  says:  "God  made  me 
And  He  sent  me  down  to  you, 
All  blushing  from  an  angel's  kiss 
In  the  garden  where  I  grew." 

The  second  says:  "God  sent  me, 
Born  of  morning  sun  and  dew, 
Just  to  say,  'God  who  makes  roses 
Is  a  "carin"  for  you,  too.'  " 

While  the  third  one  bends  to  whisper, 
From  without  its  golden  heart, 
"God,  who  troubles  to  make  roses, 
Has  in  all  earth's  life  a  part." 

Triplet  roses  on  my  table, 

Little  did  your  giver  know, 

When  she  brought  me  three  pink  roses, 

That  she  brought  me — God — also. 


127 


Seeing  Through 


HE  CHANGES  NOT 

He  who  has  kept  still  keeps 
He  who  has  led  still  leads 
He  who  has  fed  still  feeds 
He  slumbers  not  nor  sleeps. 

He  who  has  heard  still  hears 
He  who  has  seen  still  sees 
He  who  has  freed  still  frees 
Give  to  the  wind  thy  fears. 


128 


Seeing  Through 


"THY  WILL  BE  DONE" 

The  coming  days, 

Bring  what  they  may, 

Bring  God's  best  gifts, 

And  so  I  say 

With  all  God's  children  everywhere 
Who  know  God's  love  and  constant  care: 

Thy  will  be  done. 

II 

The  coming  task, 

Whate'er  it  be 

Is  God's  best  plan 

His  love  to  see, 

Then  let  our  voices  gladly  ring 
Clear  to  the  praise  of  God,  and  sing: 

Thy  will  be  done ! 

Ill 

The  low'ring  clouds 

That  nearly  meet 

Are  but  the  dust 

Of  God's  own  feet, 
Then  let  us  bow  our  heads  and  pray 
Until  the  shadows  flee  away: 

Thy  will  be  done. 


129 


Seeing  Through 


BURNING  LEAVES 

They  are  burning  leaves  to-day, 

Autumn  leaves; 
And  my  spirit  rises  high 
Burning  incense  to  its  sky 
While  the  brown  leaves  softly  play, 
While  the  flames  sing  soft  their  lay 
And  the  chill  winds  blow  away 

Autumn  leaves. 

They  are  burning  leaves  to-day, 

Autumn  leaves; 
And  the  ashes  that  remain 
Shelter  roses  in  the  lane, 
And  the  ashes  of  their  rest 
Fertilize  the  flowers'  nest, 
Autumn's  last  and  best  bequest 

Burning  leaves. 


130 


Seeing  Through 


"AFTERGLOW-LAND" 

Afterglow-land,  are  you  far  away? 

I've  watched  your  glory  many  a  day, 

Watched  the  glory  of  opalesque  skies 

'Till  the  last  faint  beam  of  their  splendor  dies 

And  always  wonder  and  sometimes  say : 

"Afterglow-land  are  you  far  away?" 

I  walked  one  night  toward  afterglow-land, 
Holding  quite  close  your  dear,  loved  hand, 
And  when  together  we'd  trod  the  road, 
You  suddenly  turned,  let  slip  your  load, 
Then  with  a  smile  most  mystic-bright 

Toward  afterglow-land  you  sped  that  night. 

***#*#*## 

And  now  I  know  it  and  often  say: 
"Afterglow-land  is  not  far  away." 


131 


Seeing   Through 


GOD'S  CARPETS 

God  a  maker  is  of  carpets, 
And  I've  seen  Him  lay  them  down, 
White,  then  greening,  emeraldescent, 
Then  the  softest  shades  of  brown. 

God  a  maker  is  of  carpets 
Held  in  place  by  icy  bands, 
Tacked  with  dandelions  in  Spring-time 
Covering  soft  earth's  many  lands. 

God  a  maker  is  of  carpets 
Which  He  lays  at  dead  of  night, 
One  He  sets  with  sparkling  diamonds, 
One  is  grey  when  breaks  the  light. 

God  a  maker  is  of  carpets 
White  and  green  and  softest  brown, 
Earth's  best  makers  ne'er  competing, 
God  makes  carpets  of  renown. 


132 


Seeing  Through 


SUMMER'S  GROWING  OLD 

Summer  poppies  gone  to  seed, 

But  I  find  instead 
On  the  slope  of  yonder  hill 

Sumac's  deeper  red. 

Buttercups  have  vanished  quite, 

Black-eyed  Susans  flown, 
But  with  deeper  yellow  tint 

Golden-rod  has  grown. 

Lilacs  left  us  long  ago, 
Monks  both  deep  and  pale, 

But  the  purple  asters  blow 
Over  hill  and  dale. 

Summer's  greens  have  turned  to  red, 

Some  to  shining  gold, 
Some  wear  gowns  of  golden  brown ;- 

Summer's  growing  old ! 


133 


Seeing  Through 


CHIMING  BELLS 

Down  the  ages  sweetly  stealing, 
Breaking  into  stronger  pealing, 
Wondrous  love  and  truth  revealing 
Chiming,  chiming  bells. 

"Wonderful,"  what  deep  notes  sounding 
At  this  word  with  hope  abounding, 
While  the  bass  notes  each  are  rounding, 
Chiming,  chiming  bells. 

"Counsellor,"  the  bells  are  ringing, 
Set  the  coming  ages  singing, 
Sweet  relief  and  counsel  bringing, 
Chiming,  chiming  bells. 

"Mighty  God,"  what  power  is  hiding 
In  these  words,  what  help  abiding: 
Mighty  God  with  man  is  biding, 
Chiming,  chiming  bells. 

"Prince  of  Peace,"  what  hope  is  gleaming 
From  your  message,  what  a  beaming, 
From  your  crystal  words  a  streaming, 
Chiming,  chiming  bells. 


134 


Seeing  Through 


ISA.  9:6 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  whence  is  your  wondrous  peal 
ing, 

O'er  land  and  sea  your  music  rings  again ; 
Earth  stops  to  listen  to  your  splendid  chiming, 

Doubles  its  joy  and  soothes  its  utmost  pain. 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  your  first  note  is  arresting, 
What  does  it  mean  as  "Wonderful"  you  ring? 

Something  too  big  for  earthly  understanding, 
Something  compelling  as  your  notes  you  fling. 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  I  hear  a  new  note  sounding, 
I  understand  as  "Counsellor"  is  swung 

Forth  on  the  night  winds  of  the  world  in  query, 
Hope  gleams  through  darkness  as  your  note  is 
rung. 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  fortissimo  your  music, 

Angels  and  saints  the  "Mighty  God"  proclaim, 

Wondrous  in  power,  o'er  earth  and  heaven  reigning, 
All  the  dim  past  and  present  days  acclaim. 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  how  tender  is  your  message, 
"Everlasting  Father"  in  cressendo  sweet 

Falls  on  the  lonely  ones  of  earth's  wide  borders, 
Brimming  with  comfort  and  with  joy  replete. 


135 


Seeing  Through 


Bells,  chiming  bells,  again  a  note  triumphant 
Drowns  the  loud  din  of  battles'  fearsome  roar, 

"The  Prince  of  Peace" — Victorious  your  pealing, — 
Small  wonder  that  to  heaven  your  high  notes  soar! 

Bells,  chiming  bells,  peal  forth  again  in  power, 
Needed  your  message  as  in  olden  days; 

Teach  us  once  more  the  meaning  of  your  chiming, 
'Till  we  too  join  in  songs  of  reverent  praise. 


136 


Seeing  Through 


CHRISTMAS  MUSIC 

Ring,  O  bells,  from  your  steeple  height, 
Strongly,  sweetly  across  the  night; 
O'er  the  world  your  message  tell 
Until  the  echoes  forth  shall  swell 
And  the  wide  world  shall  know  full  well: 
Jesus  the  Saviour  is  born. 

Ring,  O  bells,  with  your  message  sweet, 
Gladly  joyous  we  each  repeat; 
Over  the  world  your  notes  fling  clear 
Until  remotest  lands  shall  hear, 
Until  they  whisper  far  and  near: 
Jesus  the  Saviour  is  born. 


137 


Seeing  Through 


THE  ANSWER 

I  asked  for  faith: 

God's  swift  reply 

Called  me  a  thing  impossible  to  do, 
A  big  thing  and  unknown  on  roadways  new. 

I  asked  for  faith : 

God  sent  instead 

A  call  to  venture  forth  toward  the  unknown, 
To  leave  familiar  ways  and  walk  alone. 

I  asked  for  faith: 

God  whispered  low: 

Who  asks  for  this  must  start  to  be  and  go, 
And  venture  forth  and  dare,  if  he  would  grow. 

So  I  began 

With  vision  dim, 

But  in  obedience  faith  has  stronger  grown: 
I  find  the  answer  through  the  path  unknown. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-40m-7,'56(C790s4)444 


W 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


Seeing  through 


7.2S 


A    001247240 


